Dissociative Magics
by FeatheredMask
Summary: After a new law is passed in the Ministry, Ryou receives a letter to Hogwarts. Malik tags along. However, complications arise, including passing out from apparation.
1. Transfer Students

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh.

Some liberties have been taken with the ages. The story is easier to understand if you have some knowledge on Yu-Gi-Oh.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, taking this short moment to relax. A breeze blew in through the window, bringing the sounds of flapping owl wings. Four owls, each for young wizards in different continents.<p>

The ministry had passed a new law demanding the wizarding schools of Europe extend invitations to all of those that had been born in their respective countries, including those no longer living there. And thus, four owls, all holding invitations to Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. Three of the owls on the receiving ends already went to wizarding schools, so there would be the issue of never having transfers before. The fourth was an oddity, one that Dumbledore desired McGonagall's counsel on.

His gaze strayed to an open file on his desk, one with the picture of a boy with long white hair and a circular golden pendant hanging from his neck. This was the only picture out of all in the room that didn't move.

_Ryou Bakura, age of 15, has been to many countries, never staying in one place for longer than six months. His mother and younger sister both died in a car accident when he was seven years old. He frequently releases bursts of accidental magic that is reported to put nearby humans, both muggle and magical, in comas for several years. For this reason he has been deemed dangerous to students and as such, does not attend our school. He is in possession of an Egyptian artifact that is considered precious to the Ishtal clan of Egypt. As it has not yet been confiscated from him, it is assumed one from the clan is tutoring him in wizardry. _

Inside the letter Dumbledore found school records and medical files. The boy was nice enough and had good grades, but his medical records disturbed Dumbledore. Multiple times had he gone to hospitals with unexplained stab wounds, and once had been electrocuted during a card game tournament. Many doctors suspected he had a personality disorder, but he never stayed long enough for them to come to a solid diagnosis.

Yes, quite the oddity.

A tower of flame leapt up in the fireplace and died just as quickly, leaving McGonagall dusting soot off her emerald robes. She strided over and sat in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk.

McGonagall opened her mouth-

"Minerva, I want to recruit Ryou Bakura into the Order. What do you think?"

* * *

><p>So, think I should follow the book or revise it? Should I copy sections of the book when needed? Harry Potter crossovers are confusing like that.<p>

Okay! First chapter done! Sorry it's a bit short. I prefer short first chapters. They're bite-sized so you can get a taste of the story, and you won't be put off by a really long chapter. Future chapters will be at least 1,000 words each. This story will be fun. Yes, fun. My first session of fun begins at the end of chapter two. It'll be the beginning of a number of headaches for Ryou...literally.


	2. The First Spell

_Edited as of 12/7/14_

**Dissociative Magics**

"I summon-"

A tapping came from the window. It continued, like a bird was pecking at it. Malik and Bakura turned to the window, Bakura seething at whatever interrupted the game. Malik's eyes widened when he saw the confused owl, a letter tied by a scrap of string to its leg.

Malik opened the window, nearly strangling the poor bird as he rushed to pull it inside. Swearing in multiple languages, Bakura could only barely understand the underlying non-swears, even though his host was close to fluent in several of those languages.

"-what are they thinking? I told them not to owl me! Don't those idiots know there's a muggle in this house? What do they think they're-"

Malik cut himself off. He had opened the letter and now stared at the address, a wide grin on his face. He tossed the letter to Bakura like a frisbee.

"Looks like Ryou's a wizard. When were you going to tell me?"

Bakura arched a brow and snatched the letter out of the air. He unfolded it, scanning over the piece of parchment more appropriate to the age of the Renaissance. Despite the odd delivery service, he would read it before passing judgment.

__Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry__

__Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)__

__Dear Mr. Bakura,__

__We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.__

__Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.__

__Yours sincerely,__

__Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress__

Bakura stared at the letter. He asked quietly, "What is this?"

"It's Ryou's acceptance letter. He was supposed to get one when on his eleventh birthday from the Japanese wizarding school, but I guess Hogwarts decided to claim him after five years," Malik explained, as though this happened every day.

"It's not a prank?"

"Who would send you a letter trying to convince you you're being invited to a magic school, by owl, no less?"

"Mariku."

Malik froze, and searched in his mind for the yami. He shook his head. "No. He's asleep, and has been since I got the Rod back. Besides, I'm going to Hogwarts this year as well. I guess I got a buddy."

Bakura poked Ryou, who slept in his soul room. Without any explanation, Ryou was in control with Bakura the one asleep. Ryou yawned, making Malik chuckle. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the letter in his hand.

Ryou's sleepy gaze snapped to one of awe. "A magic school?"

Malik rolled his eyes. "He doesn't tell you anything, does he?"

Ryou shook his head, and Malik sighed. "I'll get Isis and we'll explain everything. Call your dad and tell him you're going to a boarding school in Europe."

With a loud crack, Malik disappeared. Ryou stared at the spot for a few seconds, wondering how Malik could have teleported without taking a single step in the shadows. This must be wizard magic, something different than shadow magic.

Ryou picked up the phone and dialed his father's mobile phone. He waited barely one ring before his father picked up.

_"Mr. Bakura speaking."_

"Father," he greeted shortly. "It's Ryou."

_"Hello, son. Can we make this quick? I'm supposed to be at a meeting right now."_

The half-truth slid out of his mouth with hardly a thought. "A friend of mine is going to a boarding school and invited me to come along, offering to pay for my tuition. Can I go?"

_"Alright. That's fine."_

"Thanks. I love you, Father."

There was a loud crack behind him, signaling the arrival of the Ishtals. Ryou put the phone back in its cradle before his father could comment on the sound. He turned to Malik and Ishizu, a strange grin more reminiscent of his dark half on his face.

"We're going to a magic school."

* * *

><p>Lupin apparated into an alley, appearing beside a dumpster. A cat shrieked at his sudden arrival, scrambling away from where he'd nearly landed on its poor tail. He pointed his wand at his throat and muttered a spell. Stepping out of the alley he was pleased to find that he could understand all of the surrounding signs, the Japanese reading to him as easily as if it was his first language.<p>

Making his way through the streets, Lupin noticed most of the people giving him odd looks wore ridiculous outfits themselves. He would have blended in if he had worn his robes instead of the antique muggle suit.

Lupin made his way up an apartment building and stopped at the number 412. He cleared his throat, running his introductory speech through his head, and raised a fist to knock- he stopped when he heard voices from inside.

"Tomb robber! Malik! Get back here!"

"Never!"

"The Tauk is mine!"

A grin found its way to Lupin's face. It reminded him of the days at Hogwarts, when he was part of the Marauders with Sirius and James. Shaking his head at fond memories of pranks in days long gone, he knocked. Immediately, the squabble inside ceased, and he could hear someone apologizing repeatedly. There were a few clicks and other sounds, and the door opened, revealing a pale, gangly boy with a long shock of pure white hair. Lupin looked beyond to see an Egyptian boy with pale hair smiling sheepishly at a woman of Egyptian nationality. The woman noticed him at that moment.

"Ah, hello! You must be the wizard escorting Ryou," the woman greeted warmly, taking the door from the boys to beckon the professor inside.

"Yes, Dumbledore sent me," Lupin explained, coming inside and sneaking a furtive glance around the room. Small living space, but worn and full of knick-knacks. "And you would be?"

"Ishizu Ishtal." She gestured to the Egyptian boy. "This is my brother, Malik-" She nodded to the albino. "-and this is Ryou Bakura."

"I'm assuming you're the Ishtal clan tutors Dumbledore mentioned?"

Malik blurted out, "Tutors?"

Lupin frowned. "I guess not, then. Dumbledore said the Ishtal clan might be tutoring Ryou in magic."

Malik grinned. "Nah, we were in the country and decided to visit, which just so happened to be at the same time Ryou found out he was a wizard."

"So you are wizards?"

"Malik will attend Hogwarts with Ryou. I am to be a new teacher at Hogwarts," Ishizu explained.

"Right. Well, Ryou, ready to leave?"

Ryou turned to the door, but hesitated and looked at the Ishtals. "You can find another exit, right?" They nodded.

Ryou turned back to the door and began to lock it. Click the standard lock, slide in the chain, pull over the bar...

Lupin glanced at the Ishtals. Ishizu glared at Malik, who shuffled a deck of some type of playing cards. Lupin turned his attention back to the door and all its clicks.

...roll out the tripwire, prepare the spring-loaded needles, apply poison to the slivers of wood poking out...

That was one secure door.

Ryou picked up a suitcase. "I am now. Ishizu told me about apparation."

Said Egyptian cleared her throat. When given a questioning look, she held out her hand. Muttering an apology, Ryou handed her a golden necklace he produced seemingly out of nowhere.

"See you at Hogwarts!" Malik cheered, nothing but a boy of boundless energy, apparently.

"Right, then," Lupin said, still somewhat unnerved by the paranoid security system. He held out his arm. "Grab on to my arm, and don't let go."

One feeling of being pushed through a tube later, they stood in London, across the street from a row of adjacent buildings. Lupin breathed in the familiar night air of England, feeling as though it filled him with energy and peace. There was the sound of labored breathing to his right and with a start, he realized Ryou had fallen to his knees.

Lupin helped the boy up. He thought he looked sickly, but passed it off as a side effect of first-time side-along apparation. They walked across the street, Ryou stumbling along, having to be supported by the weary professor.

Lupin knocked on the door to Number 12, and was rushed inside by a flustered redhead. He had to concentrate to understand and speak English again, his tongue adding in a distinct Asian accent.

"I'm fine, Molly. I wasn't attacked by Death Eaters or anything. However, I think Ryou should be the one getting fussed over; he looks a bit rattled from the apparation."

"Alright, then. Come along, dearie." The stout woman took the suitcase from Ryou and hurried him up the stairs. "Let me show you to your room." Mrs. Weasley went on to talk about the house and what a dreadful state it was in.

Lupin shrugged off his coat and headed to the dining room, playing with the thought of how Sirius would react when he told him the kid had white hair. He skirted around the troll's foot umbrella stand Tonks seemed so fond of knocking over-

The place shook as something heavy fell on the stairs and that dratted portrait woke up. The house shook even more when everyone in the house rushed to shut up the noisy lady. Lupin ran over as well, not caring that he knocked over the umbrella stand as he did so. When the stairs and portrait came into view, his breath caught in his throat.

Lupin bypassed the painting screaming obscenities at him, more focused on the unconscious body on the steps. His hand went to the wrist, and he exhaled in relief when he felt a pulse. He waited until the curtains once more quieted the portrait, and the other Order members noticed the unconscious boy.

"Who's the kid?" Sirius popped the question.

Lupin cast the counter spell for the translation charm, and sighed, relieved to find English rushing back to his fill his thoughts. "Ryou Bakura, the new student Dumbledore sent me to get."

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><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

I said it was going to be fun. And it I did not lie.

Next chapter nothing really happens, so I decided to make it long to make up for that.


	3. He Awakens!

_Edited as of 12/8/14 - _Responses to reviews were deleted.

Yami Bakura will be called Bakura. Ryou will sometimes call Bakura "Yami."

Yami -Dark

Hikari -Light

Yadonushi -Landlord, host

__/Ryou to Bakura/__

__/Bakura to Ryou/__

__"Language other than English."__

* * *

><p><strong>Dissociative Magics<strong>

When Ryou woke up, he heard someone yell something his throbbing brain refused to process. He struggled with his eyelids before he could pry them open, blinking away the accumulated sleep. He continued blinking long after, as the twins staring down at him didn't reduce to one.

Ryou started to push himself up to a sitting position, and a groan escaped his throat in reaction to the aches of pain radiating from his muscles. He instead decided for Bakura to take control, but found the yami's soul room locked. Helpless, he opted for gathering information from the redhead and possible hallucination.

__"Where-"__

Ryou didn't get a chance to finish his question as a stout woman burst into the room, shooing away the two. She carried a plate piled high with food and a goblet of some drink. She set the dishes on the side table, and felt his forehead.

__"Where am I?"__

She looked startled. "Sorry?"

Ryou blinked. English. Right. He tried again, this time in his native tongue.

"You remember that piece of paper Remus showed you before you came in?"

"What paper?"

"The one that, after you read it, made the house appear."

Ryou started to shake his head, but stopped, not wanting more pain. "I don't know anything about any paper. The house was just there."

"What?" she squeaked.

Another throb of pain. "I'm still feeling unwell from the apparation."

The woman smiled, uneasy melting away in matronly understanding. "I'm Molly Weasely, mother of Fred and George, the twins who were just in here. You gave us quite the fright earlier. You need rest, try to sleep."

Ryou said nothing, trying again at Bakura's soul room.

By the time Ryou was able to rouse a groggy Bakura, a few hours had passed. Bakura shifted through his memories and realized, with a mental shout of fury, that they knew next to nothing about any of this situation.

__/You deal with pain better than me. You take over./__

Bakura took control, allowing Ryou to retreat to his soul room to rest.

"Hey, Hermoine! I think he's waking up!"

"Ron, not so loud!"

A growl rose in Bakura's throat, and he pulled himself into a sitting position. A boy and girl about his hikari's age stared at him in curiosity.

"What do you want?" he snapped at them. The girl shrunk away, revealing an easily bruised nature. The boy retaliated.

"You can't talk to us like that!"

Ryou's headache had carried over to Bakura, and it made him irritable. "And why can't I?"

The boy's face went as red as his hair and he spluttered out something Bakura couldn't make sense of, even though Ryou's memories had taught him English. Bakura looked around the room, noting the faded wallpaper and empty picture frame before coming across the plate of food. He grinned and dug into it with vigor. The redhead made a face; the girl walked out of the room.

The redhead muttered, "Why did I get stuck with the prat?"

Bakura paused in his ravaging of the food. "The name's Bakura. Ryou Bakura."

He snorted, but replied in kind, "Ron Weasley."

Food finished, Bakura fell back asleep.

* * *

><p>"-and this is Nymphadora Tonks, but she likes to be called Tonks. She's a metamorphmagus." The last person at the table waved, flashing a grin at Ryou as her hair turned snow white to mirror his own.<p>

Over the past few days, Ryou had barely been able to get out of bed, relying on Bakura to deal with the pain to be able to make it to the stairs and back. His body still ached with every muscle movement, albeit it hurt less than it had when he first woke up, and so this was the first time he had made it to the dining room. He had already met the Weasley kids and Hermione. This morning Mrs. Weasley introduced him to everyone else.

"Ryou," started a man with long black hair; Sirius. "What did you do to your hair?"

"I didn't do anything to it. I'm albino."

Sirius blinked stupidly. "What's an albino? Is that some sort of muggle gang name?"

Ryou glanced at the other faces around the table, most which looked equally curious. He had never had to explain it before.

"No, this is my natural hair color. I have albinism; it means there's no pigment in my hair or skin."

"Huh. Weird."

_/He's calling you weird because of your hair? Has he seen this place?/_

"What is this place?" Ryou cast around for something other than his genetics to talk about.

"Grimmauld Place, Number 12," Sirius answered with a kind of bitterness mixed with the warmth one would use when remembering childhood memory, resulting in a grim tone. "But Lupin already told you that."

Ryou might have tilted his head to the side in confusion had his neck not been aching.

Sirius continued on, "This used to be my family's house, but they're all dead now."

The sudden action of Sirius spearing his fork viciously in his steak made Ryou jump. "And good riddance! Dark wizards, the lot of them."

Ryou tried to ignore Bakura's growling.

"I inherited the house and offered it to Dumbledore for use as the Order's headquarters."

"Order?" Ryou asked.

"The Order of the Phoenix. A secret society. Formed by Dumbledore to combat Voldemort. It was recently regrouped because of Voldemort's return and the threat of more attacks."

Mrs Weasley broke in at that moment, "I'm sure Ryou doesn't need to hear any more into that. He must be exhausted and should get some sleep. He'll need plenty of rest to face the excitement of Harry's arrival tonight."

"Albino-boy's been sleeping ever since he got here," Tonks complained, "Can't you let him stay a while?"

Ryou sided with Mrs. Weasley, commenting, "I am pretty tired."

The redhead practically glowed with elation, moving by the boy's side. "See? Now come along, dear, I'll help you."

Ryou let Bakura have control for making it back to bed, and Bakura grudgingly accepted the stout woman's help.

* * *

><p>Bakura woke up to yelling. Lots and lots of yelling. It complained about mythical creatures, not being told anything, and been stuck for days in one place. All in all, it complained about everything that Bakura and Ryou had gone through in the past week.<p>

It also brought back the headache he thought had vanished yesterday, returning with renewed ferocity. He tried to block it out by digging in deeper in the bedding, but the shouting refused to be muffled. Finally, he took the offensive approach.

"For the love of Ra, shut up!" he yelled at the initial yeller, a four-eyes with messy black hair.

Ron and Hermione stared at him, as though surprised the shouting had woken him up. The new kid stared at him, as though surprised he had white hair.

"I've been here for a total of four days, and all those four days I'm been aching all over, with barely any time time awake to have anything explained to me! Ra, I only learned yesterday that I was in London! You probably know more about this wizard stuff than I do right now!"

The new boy went slack-jawed, but recovered and asked the other two, "Who's that?"

"Ryou Bakura," Ron answered, with a hint of loathing, "He's been having mood swings since he got here-"

"Ron! He's in pain! People can be very irritable when in pain!"

"-He's been here, as he said, four days. He had a weird reaction to apparation and now spends all his time sleeping."

Bakura rolled his eyes and tuned out after that., muffling a huff in his pillow. Ryou appeared in spirit form to watch and listen to the conversation. He steadied his heart rate back to normal, and prepared to drift back to sleep. That is, until two loud cracks further hurt his ears. There was a high-pitched twittering and flap of wings.

Hermione said something he couldn't quite hear, and he adjusted himself somewhat on the bed. They seemed determined to keep him awake, so he might as well know how they were doing it.

"We thought we heard your dulcet tones." One of the twins. Bakura couldn't be bothered to adjust again to see which, and Ryou couldn't tell them apart.

"You don't want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out." So the boy's name was Harry. "There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you."

Bakura spoke up, "He shouted loud enough to wake a 3,000 year old spirit from Ancient Egypt."

The room went silent. Bakura could see Harry's red face from Ryou's spirit eyes.

"We thought you were asleep," Ron muttered, barely above a whisper.

"I imagine one would wake up when a conversation is held in the same room."

"Er - sorry, mate."

Harry resumed conversation, passing over the awkward subject that was the foreigner. "So you two passed your apparation tests, then?"

The conversation became nothing he couldn't find from Ryou's memories later, and he settled back into sleep.

"Ryou? Ryou, dearie?"

Bakura woke up shortly after he fell asleep to Mrs. Weasley's voice, whispering his hikari's name, trying to wake him gently. He blinked, and she continued.

"Ryou dearie? Do you think you're up for eating downstairs today?"

He and Ginny followed Mrs. Weasley down the stairs, the two redheads helping him when needed. At the bottom of the stairs Bakura relinquished control to Ryou, who had to stop and lean against the wall to catch his breath, the constant pain having transferred back to him. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating more on his breathing.

Ryou heard voices speaking in a foreign language and opened his eyes. He at first spotted a row of mounted, shrunken, shriveled heads. Turning his own head, he saw Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks at a door, waving sticks around and speaking that strange language. The locks and bolts sealed themselves.

"We're eating down in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasely whispered to the trio of stragglers when they reached the bottom of the stairs. "Harry, dear, if you'll just tiptoe across the hall it's through this door here-"

CRASH

Everyone jumped at the almighty crash.

'Tonks!"

The curtains Ryou had passed by that morning flew open, revealing a life-size portrait of an old woman. Ryou and Bakura couldn't help but be fascinated, ever interested in the occult. The sickly woman screamed and screamed, clawing at the surface of her painting, trying to tear into those pulling the curtains over her.

"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers-"

Ryou stared at the spectacle, unable to do little else. Tonks dragged a huge blue leg he had seen earlier to a standing position, apologizing the entire time. Mrs. Weasley went down the halls, pointing a stick at other paintings, which froze as she passed. Sirius charged in, engaging in a shouting match with the screaming portrait until he and Lupin managed to force the drapes closed.

Panting and brushing matted hair out of his face, Sirius turned to Harry.

"Hello, Harry," he said grimly, "I see you've met my mother."

"You-"

"My dear old mum, yeah," said Sirius, "We've been trying to get her down for a month but we think she put a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of the canvas. Let's get downstairs, quick, before they all wake up again."

Ryou didn't know what a Permanent Sticking Charm was, but from the name, assumed it was a 'charm' to stick something permanently. The conversation after that turned into a repeat of that morning, and so he sat down at the table -with some help from Hermione- and closed his eyes for a moment.

Ryou awoke to a sound like a car skidding on its brakes, and experienced a fleeting moment where everything paused before Bakura took over and threw them to the side. He heard a crash when he hit the wall.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley, "THERE WAS NO NEED - I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS THIS - JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW, YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

Groaning, Ryou lifted his head to see broken shards of glass and some kind of drink splashed where he had been sitting a minute ago. While he paled shades lighter than his normal pallor, Harry and Sirius were having a grand laugh at the whole thing.

"Ryou! Are you okay?" Hermione rushed over and helped Ryou to a new seat. He grimaced from the blossoming pain, but managed a smile.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Thank you."

Ron scowled and muttered, "How come he's so polite with the girls and a prat to me?"

__/Because Ryou's the polite one./__

"-Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy-"

Mrs. Weasley stopped dead, glancing at her husband with a frightened look, whose expression was suddenly wooden.

"Let's eat," said Bill quickly.

"It looks wonderful, Molly," said Lupin, ladling stew on to a plate for her and handing it across the table.

Mrs. Weasley sniffed, and served heaps of food on to a plate, which she handed to Ryou. He was dismayed at the amount, but thanked her nonetheless.

Nibbling at his food, Ryou noticed everyone excluding him and Harry engaged in conversation: Mrs. Weasley talked about cleaning with an unenthusiastic Sirius, Tonks morphed her nose to the delight of Ginny and Hermione, Mr. Weasley, Lupin, and Bill discussed something about goblins, and the last three Weasleys listened to Mundungus tell a story about selling the same frogs to a guy twice. Ryou didn't hear much of interest or anything that might help him know more about his situation, but he knew Bakura was interested in Mundungus.

Soon enough, the talking died down, and the room filled with yawns. Ryou found it hard to keep his eyes open.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," said Mrs. Weasley with a yawn.

"Not just yet, Molly," said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you's do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

Just about everyone at the table jerked in their seats at the first syllable of that last word. Bakura tensed at the back of Ryou's mind.

__/What has them frightened? Who is this 'Voldemort'?/__

"I did!" said Harry indignantly, "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said they're not allowed in the Order, so-"

"And they're quite right," said Mrs. Weasley. "You're too young."

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius. "Harry's been trapped in that muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen-"

"Hang on!" interrupted George loudly.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" said Fred angrily.

"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" said George.

Sirius joined in the argument and he and Mrs. Weasely volleyed retorts like a tennis match. It ended with Mr. Weasley saying that Dumbledore said they had to fill Harry in on a few things. Lupin implied that someone would eavesdrop and later tell Harry a garbled version. Mrs. Weasley tried one last time to banish the rest of them to bed, but Ginny was the only outcast; the twins being overage, Harry the one to be told, Hermione and Ron would be told anyway, and Dumbledore must have had a reason for insisting Ryou come to headquarters.

In the following discussion, Ryou learned a few things: This Voldemort didn't want to draw attention to himself; only this Order knew of his return; he was scared of Dumbledore; he wanted followers, he didn't like this Ministry; Voldewart, the Ministry, and Dumbledore were all on different sides; giants were real, the Ministry hated hard work; this Daily Prophet was filled with lies; and Voldemort was after a weapon of some kind. And if Ryou read between the lines, they implied that there was war on the horizon.

Mrs. Weasley interrupted Harry before he could ask further on the weapon. She demanded they go to bed and reprimanded Sirius for giving away too much information. None of them had an argument to go against her. Mrs Weasley beckoned to the kids, and one by one, they marched up the stairs. She followed them up and made sure they wouldn't sneak back down. She returned to Ryou, who held up a hand to stop her from helping him up. In his head, he sorted through all of the information, Bakura giving the occasional comment.

"So let me get this straight: The weapon is probably something that will gain him a lot of followers or a tool that will kill this Dumbledore man. If it's suddenly found out Voldemort is still alive, there will be three major sides to this war: Voldemort's, Dumbledore's, and the Ministry's. People would think the Ministry lied to them, considering the Daily Prophet, and that would knock their choices down to two. Those on Dumbledore's side would construct another group or army, assuming this Order stays secret. And if Voldemort kills Dumbledore after the new group is created, lots of people would join both sides, with very few feeling safe enough to stay on the sidelines. But if Voldemort kills Dumbledore at the same time he reveals himself to the world and not anytime before, there would be panic, and most would assume Dumbledore's army had been destroyed or disbanded, and so you have the Ministry and Voldemort left to side with. However, everyone would, again, believe the Ministry lied to them, and so nearly everyone would join Voldemort's side, with the rest hiding away someplace they couldn't be detected. That's why he's laying low and searching for that weapon. Is that right?"

Ryou finished his rambling and noticed the room had gone silent. He ducking his head and blushed as he realized everyone was staring at him with gaping mouths.

Bakura took control, lifting his head, and continued, with an innocent facade, "If this weapon is really that dangerous, why haven't you destroyed it yet?"

Lupin snuck a glance at Mrs. Weasley. Seeing as she looked on the verge of fainting from that analysis, he stood and walked over to Bakura. "Ryou, I think it's time for you to go to bed."

Bakura nodded and allowed himself to be helped up to bed. Halfway up the stairs, he heard Sirius's comment.

"I think I know why Dumbledore wants him to join the Order."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

That ramble of Ryou's was a little babbling I did after I summarised the Order's explanations to Harry. I originally intended it to be said to the twins, Ron, and Harry after they had all gone to bed, but thought to do this.

Hey, anyone know what that 'weapon' is? If it was ever revealed, I must've forgotten what it is. Is it the prophecy?

Disclaimer: Some sentences have been copied straight from the book. I myself am annoyed by the overuse of -ly adverbs in the book.


	4. The Second Spell

_Edited as of 12/8/14 _- Responses to reviews were deleted.

Italics are thoughts and languages other than English.

Yadonushi -Landlord, host

* * *

><p><strong>Dissociative Magics<strong>

Bakura leaned against the wall, enjoying the nonexistent feeling of solid support against his intangible form. The curtains were closed, no candle or magical light brightened the room - all the darker for him. He revered in the shadows and the comfort they brought. His host complained they brought a feeling of despair, but he knew Ryou took comfort in them.

His eyes opened to mere red slits, casting his gaze around the room. Though everything was cloaked in shadow, he saw it all. His eyes narrowed further. He scanned every inch of the room, never mind that he never moved from his spot against the wall. The room rippled.

Shadows swirled in front of him, coming to mold a humanoid shape before dispersing like fog just as quickly. The broken doll in Dark Necrofear's arms held out a sealed letter. Bakura pulled it away from the grubby fingers, wondering what the deal was with the fancy snail mail. The monster burst into shadow as soon as the letter broke contact, fleeing as a mist.

Bakura eyed the letter. On the front had Ryou's name in kanji. He slid a fingernail underneath the wax seal, and pulled out the papyrus.

__Dear Ryou and Bakura,__

__Where did you go and why haven't you come back yet to tell me about it? I want to know if wizarding ____Britain____ is any different from wizarding Egypt.__

__Someone tried to rob the museum yesterday. It was reported to be by a bunch of people in black cloaks, so Isis thinks I'm manipulating the Ghouls again. I need a place to crash for a day or two while this blows over. I'd crash at your place, but I don't know what traps you have set up. Can you show me where you're staying?__

__Malik__

The end half of the letter glistened with ink, having been written seconds before.

__I'm in your kitchen. It's the only place I know hasn't been affected by your paranoia.__

Bakura dropped the letter, but instead of falling, the papyrus stayed in the air. Large chunks tore away from it, as though eaten by a starving animal, until all evidence of there having been a letter was gone. Red eyes melted into the shadows.

The eyes opened a second later, halfway across the world in a much more modern setting.

Bakura stepped in to the lit half of the room, striding over without a sound to an Egyptian teen cradling a mug of coffee, careful not to be seen. Sneaking behind him, he waited for the perfect moment. When the Egyptian raised the mug for a swig of the bitter drink, he struck.

Malik stumbled away, coughing and choking on coffee. __"What-what was that for!"__ he yelled, massaging his now tender shoulder, checking if the punch left lasting damage. __"If anything, I should be the one punching you! You never contacted me or anything!"__

Bakura glared daggers at Malik, joking aside. He growled, __"You could have told me about the effect of first-time apparation."__

__"That's what you're upset about?"__ It started as a chuckle, and soon Malik broke into laughter.

Malik leaned back against the counter, mirth still tugging at the corners of his lips. He took a steady sip of coffee, and said, __"You, a 3,000 year old thief king, got upset because you weren't forewarned about a minor discomfort?"__

__"Bedridden for four days hardly counts as a minor discomfort."__

Malik spat out his drink before he could choke on it again. __"Four days? From apparation?"__

Bakura stepped to the side, settling back into the shadows, his body losing its corporal look. His disembodied voice drifted to Malik.

__"Yadonushi hasn't been able to get out of bed at all. I'm barely able to move, myself. I haven't connected with the shadows before this morning."__

Malik shook his head. __"That never happened with my first time. Maybe it's because half my clan has magic and I've been surrounded by it most of my life."__

Bakura said nothing, basking in the shadows a while longer. Malik continued sipping his coffee. For a while neither of them said anything. Finally, Bakura spoke.

__"I have to get back. That woman might check on Yadonushi at any minute."__

__"You mean I can't visit?__" Malik asked, voice dripping with mock whining.

__"I'm still too weak. Yadonushi will send you a letter."__ Bakura vanished in the shadows once more, reappearing in Grimmauld Place. The door creaked open and Mrs. Weasley bustled in, heading for the window.

Sunlight filled the room, chasing away the shadows and forcing Bakura to be corporal once more. Mrs. Weasley turned around, and her hand flew to her heart when she came face-to-face with Bakura. Seeing it was only him, she calmed, and a smile flitted on her face, but she still looked pale.

"I see you're feeling better. Good thing, too. You have to study four years' worth of books to catch up to the others in your year."

Mrs. Weasley scuttled out, and came scuttling back with an armful of books. She repeated this several times over. After the second time, Bakura stopped watching and picked up a book. By the time she came back only with a plate of food, Ryou had wakened and had his nose buried in Unfogging the Future.

"Good morning, Mrs Weasley," Ryou greeted when she came in with breakfast. She smiled and mumbled something about cleaning before leaving him alone.

Ryou switched with Bakura to look at that morning's memories. In control, Bakura sorted through the mountain of books, throwing them in either the 'useful' pile or 'waste of time' pile.

__/You can't access the shadow realm?/__

Bakura groaned. Trust Yadonushi to not watch the entire memory before asking questions.

"I can," Bakura said, "But the connection is weak. Were you not paying attention to the memory?"

He felt Ryou get flustered and apologize, __/I'm sorry- I shouldn't have- I rushed to conclu-/__

Bakura shoved the memory back on Ryou, effectively cutting off the apology. He opened the first book that Ryou had closed upon taking control, and after a moments thought, opened the divination textbook he had closed himself.

Once Ryou had the memory, he took spirit form to read the divination book. When Ryou finished a page, Bakura turned a page. They continued like that for some time, until a creak of the floorboards alerted Bakura to another person entering the room.

"What do you want?" Bakura snapped at Harry, who flinched at the tone.

__/Weak./__

__/What is?/__ Ryou piped up from his book. Still looking at Harry, Bakura turned the page, drawing Ryou's focus away from the proceedings. This caught Harry's attention.

"How can you read two books at the same time?"

Bakura grinned, revealing sharp canines to enhance his already predatory features. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."

He flipped a page in his own book. A minute later, he did the same with Ryou's.

Harry scowled, thinking Bakura was showing off to get him to think he was talented. Bakura rolled his eyes. This kid kept his thoughts clear to everyone. Harry asked another question.

"I've heard aparration is like being pushed through a tube. Is it?"

"Yes; a tube lined with needles. I'm surprised my face isn't disfigured."

The mental image appeared in Harry's mind, turning his face green.

__/I want to write a letter to Malik./__

"Do you have anything I can use to write a letter?"

"Sure." Harry dived to his suitcase and dug out parchment, quill, and a bottle of ink. He handed them to Bakura. "We use quills here."

Bakura positioned the parchment on the cover of one of the books from the 'waste of time' pile and balanced the ink bottle on another book. Taking the quill, he gave control to Ryou.

Ryou gasped. He either had underestimated or unprepared for the pain. The sound caught Harry's attention, however, he ignored it and went back to reading a book. Ryou bit his lip and began the task of writing the letter.

"Who are you writing to?" Harry, whom Bakura assumed was bored, asked.

"A friend in Japan. I found out he was a wizard the same time I got my letter," Ryou said. Harry blinked, apparently shocked at how cheerful and soft his voice was compared to a few minutes before.

"What language are you writing in?" Harry's eyes followed the stroke of Ryou's quill.

"Japanese. Malik doesn't know English." Ryou paused. he gave a small, light chuckle. "But I guess since this place is secret, I'll have to write in a secret language." The writing switched to detailed drawings.

"You can write in hieroglyphs?" Harry gasped.

"Malik taught me. His family is Egyptian. __I can even speak Ancient Egyptian__," Ryou said the last part in the mentioned language.

"What?"

"I said, 'we're both fluent in the language' in Arabic, the national language of Egypt."

__/My my, you're becoming like me, Yadonushi!/__

Ryou pointedly ignored the spirit.

* * *

><p>The next few days continued with monotonous studying. Ryou sent his letter through the shadow realm, calling up a monster to give it to one of Malik's. The nights passed with Bakura fading into the shadows for reprieve from the pain.<p>

"Ryou dearie?" Mrs. Weasley asked. It had been a source of annoyance to Bakura, and a small comfort to Ryou, that she insisted on adding 'dearie' to Ryou's name.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley?" Ryou gave her a small smile, hesitant to give control to Bakura after feeling the spike of anger. The rest of the teenagers had been rushed up to bed, and now he was left.

"You don't mind staying up a bit late, do you?"

"Why?"

"Dumbledore's coming tonight, and he asked to meet you."

Ryou blinked owlishly. "Okay."

At that moment, they heard a soft knocking, loud enough for them to notice, but quiet so as to not wake Mrs. Black. The Order members fell silent. Someone exchanged hushed whispers with another at the door.

Two wizards strode in the room; Moody, and an old man better fit to the wizard stereotype. He had the old, wizened look of a fairy tale Merlin, with whimsical, starry blue robes to match. His twinkling eyes landed on Ryou first out of everyone in the room.

"Hello, Ryou. I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts." Dumbledore bowed low, as per custom of Japan.

"Hello," was Ryou's simple greeting. He made no move to stand and bow, his limbs still aching as though he'd run miles without rest.

Dumbledore's brows went up. "Is something the matter?"

Lupin filled in for Ryou, "He had an abnormal reaction to apparation and has barely been able to move since he arrived here."

"I'm slowly recovering," Ryou piped up.

"I can tell why you want him in the Order, though," said Sirius, leaning back in his chair. "The kid's a genius, he figured out Voldemort's battle plan with barely any knowledge on the wizarding world."

"Genius?" Dumbledore murmured quiet so no one but Bakura caught it, "So there's more than just power."

Louder, he said, "I know a spell that might help ease the pain. Would you like me to cast it on you?"

__/If something like with the apparation happens.../__ Bakura left the threat hanging, leaving Ryou to idly think back to the many times the yami had made similar threats and executed the punishments. The possibilities stretched a mile wide.

Ryou nodded. Dumbledore summoned his wand with a flourish of his hand, and began to utter a low incantation.

The scalding Ring against his chest was the only warning Ryou received before the tsunami of pain. The wave knocked him into a dead faint.

With a snarl, Bakura took control. The prickling of the invisible needles was too close to the feeling from apparation to be coincidence for him. He shot up, pushing off of the table. The wizards tried to grab hold of him, thinking to help. Bakura batted their hands away. He staggered to the corner as fast as this pain allowed him, the closest patch of shadow. The shadows stretched toward him, as though sensing his distress, wrapping themselves around him.

Halfway across the world, Bakura stumbled out of the shadows in to a kitchen, knocking over and breaking a good number of dishes in his search for a solid support. A stream of curses poured from his mouth in a number of languages between yells for another shadow mage.

His shouts fell on deaf ears. His head swam, his lungs gasped for air. Bakura fought to stay conscious, hoping to reach someone who might know how to help them. The wizards had inflicted pain, twice now, and might do it again. Yugi and Atemu wouldn't know how to treat him as they didn't know a thing about wizards. So that left Malik and Isis, both wizards and shadow mages. However, Malik wasn't in Ryou's apartment.

"Damnit, Malik," Bakura growled, reaching for the shadows again.

He recalled why the Ishtals came to Japan in the first place, and stumbled in to the back room of the local museum.

His vision blurred, he could no longer see if he had happened upon an Ishtal. He heard a crack, though it sounded faint, as though only an echo from far away.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

Yeah, short chapter. Not much copying stuff word-for-word from the book. For now I'm filling in the time where the HP characters are cleaning. And the trial. Different events happen during the trial for Ryou. I've wanted for so long to say "Ryou blinked owlishly."

Editing so far has been small changes, spelling and grammar fixes, some additions to flesh out paragraphs.


	5. Mrs Walburga Black Bakura?

_Edited as of 12/8/14_

**Dissociative Magics**

"How much do we know so far?" Sirius asked, eager to break the silent vigil at the dining table, the unofficial location of the Order meetings.

"We can't start yet," Lupin said, "We have to wait for Arthur."

"Right." Sirius slumped back in his chair. "What's he doing again? Didn't his shift at the Ministry end hours ago?"

"It was his turn to look for any sign of Ryou."

"It's been three weeks and we haven't seen one white hair."

"Arthur will find something," assured Mrs. Weasley, trying to stay optimistic. Yet even her joy was strained and forced.

A loud, clanging bell reverberated throughout the house, waking up Mrs. Black. Mrs. Weasley ran off to answer the door while several Order members rushed in the other direction. When everyone sat down again, Arthur joined them, accepting a plate of food his wife had saved for him.

"Anything?" Lupin asked, not expecting more than a fruitless search, but found it nice to hope.

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "Nothing. I followed some leads in Japan, but the school said he signed up for an overseas boarding school. His cover for going to Hogwarts, no doubt. I couldn't get a hold a of his father through muggle means, files said he was in Egypt. I don't want to scare him with owl-sent letters, either."

Bill spoke up, "I'll check the leads tomorrow and ask Mr. Bakura about his son personally."

Sirius rolled his eyes and groaned annoyingly, expressing his impatience to talk about Order progress. Lupin groped for a string of hope.

"But that vanishing act was magic, so his father must know about it-"

He was interrupted as the conjured lights flickered, and half the room went dark. Chairs clattered to the floor. The wizards clustered in the light half, wands aimed at the patch of shadow.

A barking, disembodied laugh floated out to them, followed by a haunting voice speaking in another language. A chuckle, seeming to hold its own echo, overlapped the voice. A third voice joined, this one sounding feminine, yet still carrying the same eerie feel that sent shivers down their backs.

A soft, familiar - yet still creepy - voice joined them, saying something in that same language. This one became solid, as though from an actual person in front of them.

"We're very sorry for scaring you. I felt well enough to travel this far, but they insisted on coming."

Lupin placed the voice in his memory first. "Ryou!"

Mr. Weasley conjured more lights with a wave of his wand, illuminating three newcomers: Ryou (who looked healthier and with more energy than he had the entire week he'd been at Grimmauld), Ishizu Ishtal, and Malik Ishtal.

Lupin started forward, ignoring the wands pointed at the two Egyptians. "Miss Ishtal, what are you doing here?"

Ryou spoke for her, "When the spell hit me, I panicked and ran to them. They've been taking care of me for the past three weeks."

"Why didn't you owl us?"

Ishizu spoke, her voice laden with a heavy Egyptian accent. "The Ishtal clan is very removed from the wizarding world, and as such do not use owls."

Malik said something, still in that other language, and barked a laugh. Ishizu said something to him in a reprimanding tone. He grinned at her and she said something else. He unhooked from his belt a golden rod with a head adorned with an Egyptian eye and sharp wings, and pointed the head at his throat, uttering a translation spell. He switched gears, his grin turning into a snarl.

"What did you do to Ryou?" demanded Malik, now in perfect English.

Moody growled back, "We didn't do-"

Ishizu interrupted by speaking to Malik in another language, presumably explaining everything said so far. He finally looked away, arms crossed and muttering, "I still think Dumbledore's crazy."

Ishizu ignored him. "We all have much to explain." She sat at the table, the two teens following her example. After a moment's hesitation, the Order members put away their wands and righted the fallen chairs.

"So this is Grimmauld Place?" Malik asked, trying the name on his charmed tongue. He chuckled. "It's a 'grim old' place, alright."

Sirius cleared his throat. "Yes, it's headquarters-"

"-of the Order of the Phoenix," Malik finished. "Ryou told us."

Arthur choked on air. "How could he? That's impossible, he'd have to be the Secret Keeper-"

Ishizu interrupted, "The Ishtal clan magic is different from your magic. With us, the Fidelious charm is useless, underage magic usage is undetected, we don't need wands, and we can use a different teleportation spell from apparation. Ryou used the teleportation spell to contact us."

Lupin noticed something. "But Ryou isn't part of the Ishtal clan. How can he do that?"

"Ryou has in his possession a relic of my clan." Ryou brought out a large golden pendant, a round ornament that reminded Lupin of a dreamcatcher, from underneath his shirt. "It has become..._attached_ to him, in a way, and he now has access to its magic."

"Aren't you tomb keepers very secretive with everything?" Bill asked, "Why let the kid keep it?"

"As I said, Ryou has a bond with the Ring."

"And..?"

Ryou spoke up, his voice so soft they had to strain their ears to hear him. "If I'm separated from the Ring, my mental stability will slowly deteriorate until I accidentally kill myself."

Everyone was silent, displaying individual expressions of shock. Malik laughed.

"I'm just glad Odion figured it out before it got to that point. I'd gotten so far as to go around calling everyone 'Steve'. Everyone's name kept slipping my mind, and 'Steve' was the only memory that came to mind." Malik laughed harder as he remembered something else, cracking up when he looked at Ryou. "Speaking of names, you insisted everyone call you Fluffy!"

Moody snapped a question, "There are more like this Ring?"

Malik answered, laughing fit over, "Only two others are able to make this kind of bond. I have one-" He held up the rod he had used as a wand. "-and a muggle sworn to secrecy has the other."

"Back on the original topic: Ryou, why were you gone so long?" Sirius asked.

Ishizu answered, "He was sick with a very high fever. He recovered fine with plenty of bed rest and a few potions."

"Right," said Mrs. Weasley, standing, "There's nothing more to talk about and it's late, so I either want everyone in a bed or out of the house."

Everyone dispersed. After some amount of arguing about time zones, Malik and Ryou were permitted to play card games for an hour before heading to bed. On his way to his own bedroom, Lupin heard several sets of feet patter away before anyone could reach that level of the house. At least they hadn't heard any Order business.

* * *

><p>Malik and Bakura, after an hour of dueling, decided to head to bed.<p>

"Soul Stealer," a voice purred. Bakura looked behind him to see Malik, looking curious himself.

The voice came again. "King of thieves..."

Both of them went into a semi-paranoid mode. They had cloaked the place in shadows, so they would have been alerted to any eavesdroppers or spies. Bakura growled, and his attention was drawn to a soft gasp from between two pulled-aside curtains.

"What are you-" Malik started, coming over to see what Bakura was glaring at. He cut off his sentence and chuckled. "Oh, this is rich."

Mrs. Black batted her eyelashes at the spirit. "Steal me away, Soul Stealer," she continued to purr to Bakura, ignoring Malik.

"Your power is awe-inspiring. Free me and our combined magics will be enough to destroy both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore." She smiled wide, showing off her pointed teeth. "If you help me, maybe you'll have a different kind of magic," she said, adding a seductive tone to her voice.

Malik had a hard time stopping himself from waking the rest of the paintings with his laughter. A twitch from Bakura told him the spirit had had enough.

"Penalty game," Bakura whispered. The portrait filled with shadow and dropped from the wall.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

I came up with a reason for giving back the Items: they go insane without their darker halves, which slept in the Items. It was an idea I found in another fanfic that hasn't updated in a while, and I twisted the idea a little, instead of seeing horrific visions and regressing to the mind of a child. Also, there was this YGO Abridged quotes thing I found, and it had something about Malik calling everyone Steve and Ryou hating the name Fluffy. That's where those ideas came from.

A muggle with shadow magic, Yugi is. Go to Hogwarts, tri-colored Yoda with a Pharaoh alter-ego does not.

Next chapter: Shopping, and of course, the event you've been waiting for: Ollivander's. Ryou and Bakura finally get to see some of the wizarding world.

The boggart scene at Grimmauld Place does not happen with Ryou/Bakura/Malik, I'll give 'em a boggart while at school.

I chose three weeks because in the books, it keeps saying 'few days' as mention of time passing, but the hearing happened on August 12, and they boarded the train on September 1. That's three weeks.


	6. Diagon Alley

I got confused with the names Ishizu and Isis, and decided Ishizu would be her name, but Malik and Bakura would use Isis as a nickname for her. Ryou's too polite to use nicknames.

Italics are languages other than English.

* * *

><p><em>"Malik, why is Yami grumbling about portraits?"<em>

Malik looked at Ryou in a questioning manner, a ghost of a smile on his face. Ryou explained.

_"He keeps muttering something about portraits and he won't tell me why or let me see any memories."_

Malik started, "Well, Ryou, you see-"

He was cut off by a slap to the face and an annoyed Bakura. Malik laughed off the wound.

"Why are we standing here?" Bakura demanded, skipping over any more talk of Mrs. Black. He shot Malik one last glare before switching out of control.

Malik shrugged. "Beats me. British wizards are weird." He said the last part under his breath. Mrs. Weasely, their guide for the trip, smiled and tapped her wand on a brick on the brick wall.

_/Three up, two across from the trashcan,/ _noted Bakura from the back of his mind. _/The day you stop looking over your shoulder is the day you get stabbed in the back,/_ he quipped almost immediately afterward, Ryou having commented on his paranoid escape route planning.

"Ryou," Malik snapped his fingers. "Mrs. Weasely just introduced us to Diagon Alley."

Ryou noticed the brick wall had disappeared, replaced by a bustling street with the occasional neon sparks flying. Ryou allowed himself to be dragged along by Malik, catching sight of a new marvel every few seconds.

When they came to a stop, Malik muttered, "You two are either very chatty today or easily distracted," before tilting Ryou's head to a poem engraved in the stone.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Ryou paled, hearing laughter in the back of his head. _/I'll come by here again sometime./_

Mrs. Weasely spoke up, "If you don't mind, Ishizu, I have to meet up with a friend back at the Leaky Cauldron. I'm sure you can handle Gringotts."

She scuttled away, and Ishizu fixed both of the teens with stern glares before shepherding them into the bank. Warnings not to steal anything. That warning was ignored, as Ryou discovered, feeling the pockets of his leather trench coat grow heavy.

Stepping into the bank, Ryou's eyes widened at the sight of the goblins. Malik seemed more at ease, having been the one to initially tell Ryou about them. He pulled the albino along, following Ishizu to one of the counters. The goblin raised a questioning eyebrow at the shock of white hair, but ignored it.

"Yes?" he drawled.

"We'd like to withdraw from vault 214," Ishizu said.

Both of the goblin's eyebrows went up, and a mirth filled his eyes, as though he thought something funny. "Rowena Ravenclaw's vault? I trust you have the key?"

Ishizu handed him a small gold key. He examined it, tapping it with his long fingernails, then called for another goblin. They chattered in another language and the key exchanged hands. The new goblin beckoned them to follow.

He led them to something similar to a mine cart and they clambered in, Ryou somewhat dazed by the absurdity of it all. During the trip, Ryou retreated to his soul room, not one for roller coasters. Bakura caught glimpses of multiple traps he'd bypassed during his time in Ancient Egypt, and something large, scaly, and blew fire. He grinned, and stepped out laughing when the cart stopped.

The goblin stroked the large steel door, and the metal melted away to reveal another door, this one gold with a lock in the middle. He put in the key, and a number of clicks resounded from somewhere before the door swung open. Malik smirked and walked in the vault with an arrogant swagger, growing cocky at the revelation of the miniture glittering mountain range.

"Take as much as you want, Bakura. We're just using this one 'cause Gringotts can't reach the Ishtal riches in Egypt. After this it might stay closed for another millenia."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Bakura searched through one of the piles of artifacts. He pocketed a jeweled knife before moving on to the gold coins. Circling the mini mountain, he almost missed catching a small black pouch.

"The gold coins are called galleons - they're the local currency. the bag will hold 200 galleons," Malik explained.

Bakura started shoveling coins in the bag, grinning when he found the bag never weighed more than a feather.

The ride back was the same as the first, but Bakura caught sights of the magical side of the traps. If he wanted to steal from Gringotts, he would have to plan for the magic traps, and would have to think of the possibility of other magical securities. Deep in his scheming, Bakura slunk back to his soul room, leaving Ryou to deal with motion sickness.

Bakura didn't emerge until a familiar scent assaulted his host's sense of smell. Ryou let him have control without resistance, glad to escape the variety of putrid odors that made his head spin. Bakura made a beeline for an aisle of plants in various forms: dried, pickled, powdered, paste, essence. It was all he could do not to gather up the ingredients he had once used to make poisons and remedies. His gaze strayed to another section, lighting up his face with a sort of giddiness.

He quickly filled a basket with many of the more dangerous looking ingredients, thinking to experiment. He went to the counter, where Ishizu and Malik were waiting for the shopkeeper to return with their order. Malik smirked at the beaming thief.

"Found the ingredients native to Egypt?"

Bakura eyed the vial of basilisk venom in his basket. "Along with a few others."

"Money's in the left pocket and an enchanted bag is in the right."

Bakura stared at Malik.

"Ryou said you weren't paying attention," he explained. A man with a toothy grin came with the supplies for the Ishtals, and sold the tools before turning to Bakura. By process of elimination, Bakura figured out the names of the silver and brass coins, and by the end of the transaction he understood the values of each. Even though he had enough to pay for all of it, he slipped some of the more expensive ingredients in his pocket.

* * *

><p>Ishizu went to buy textbooks. Malik and Ryou came to the wand shop. They went in, Malik saying, "I don't know if you don't need a wand, but it'll be easier to learn with one."<p>

Malik tapped the bell at the counter, and jumped back when an old man popped his head up. He surveyed the two teens then said, "I'm Ollivander. Are you here for wand checkups or replacements?"

"Neither," Malik said, "Ryou here just discovered he was a wizard and needs a wand."

He pushed Ryou forward. Ollivander examined him through wide, silvery-pale eyes. Those eyes met brown. Ryou felt a slight prodding in his head, but Bakura's defenses quickly squashed it. The man's paper-like skin appeared more fragile than before, and he avoided Ryou's eyes from then on.

"Hold out your wand arm."

Ryou glanced at Malik for help, but he shrugged.

"Your dominant hand," explained Ollivander. Ryou's mouth made a small 'o' shape and he held up his right arm. A tape measure flew from out of nowhere, levitating as it took various measurements. When it started measuring the Ring, no matter that it was hidden under his robes, it fell limp and clattered to the floor.

Ollivander left the tape measure and grabbed a box from the window display.

"Take it, yes, now give it a wave."

Ryou fidgeted with the wand, unsure of how to hold it. He held it like a pencil, a fork, even a sword. Malik stared at him, suddenly self-conscious of the way he held the Rod. Ollivander took out his own wand to show Ryou, who fixed his grip at once. He gave it a wave, just as he remembered Dumbledore do, but nothing happened. The wand went missing from his hand, stolen by Ollivander.

He came back with another. "Ash, unicorn tail hair, ten inches."

Ryou gave it a wave, but nothing happened. Another wand stolen, replaced by a white one. "Yew," Ollivander explained, a sad look over his features. "I haven't made a yew wand for fifty years."

Ryou didn't ask and waved away. Nothing. Curious, he waved it around in all different directions, playing with how he waved it. Nothing.

He gave the wand back to Ollivander and asked, "What's supposed to happen when I wave it, anyway?"

"Something." He elaborated, "Anything, really."

They went through many more wands, all of them having no reaction to Ryou. Finally, Ollivander stopped handing wands to the albino.

"That's all of my normal wands." A smile crept on the old man's face. "Now we get to the exotic cores."

Demon fox tail hair, fragment of black hole, essence of light, scale of sea elf, dying man's screams, shard of ice dragon. All of these cores had no reaction. However, Ollivander smiled wider. He ran in the back room ad came back with three wand boxes. He set them on the counter gingerly.

"These are Egyptian wands, sold to me by the Ishtal clan."

"Wands cut the power of our spells," Malik explained for Ryou's benefit.

Ollivander took off the lid of one box. "Try it," he insisted. Ryou picked it up, feeling the hieroglyphs etched in the hardened clay.

He waved it, but nothing happened. the other two Egyptian wands had the same non-reaction to Ryou. Tears came to Ryou's eyes at the thought of not finding a wand, but Olivander seemed unperturbed. His grinning made him look like a madman.

"I have one last batch of wands in the back," he started babbling, reigned-in eagerness spilling into his voice. "They have two cores and I was working on finding what didn't cancel out the other, but no one's tried them yet so this'll be a good test. Who knows? Maybe they won't blow up in your face."

Ollivander sped off to the back room, no doubt making a mess with that much noise. Ryou paled and shook, uncomforatble with the thought of anyone going to too much trouble for him. Bakura took over. Ollivander came back with several boxes, nearly dropping them in his hurry to hand one to Bakura.

Bakura waved it, feeling silly. Nothing. Next few wands: nothing.

The next one Ollivander handed him was white; yew. The moment it touched his hand, Bakura felt it. He stared at it, perplexed.

Ollivander sighed in relief as he sunk into a chair. Without prompt, he said, "Yew, ten inches. Hair from the mane of a female unicorn and heartstring of a Thestral. I thought that wand would one day spontaneously explode."

At Malik's questioning look, he explained, "Unicorns represent purity, life, and innocence. Thestrals are often associated with death, corruption, and bad luck. I chose yew to perhaps bind them together, because it represents reincarnation, the balance between life and death."

Bakura stared at the wand. Something was fighting in there. Curious, he sent a trickle of shadow magic through it, giving it a wave to hide its sudden blackening.

The shadow magic parked with the cores, turning all three agressive. The reaction sent Bakura flying backwards, he hit the wall with a crack. It might have been from the wall or his spine, but either way his back hurt.

Malik rushed to help his friend. Bakura blinked the stars from his vision, but found himself unable to focus on Malik. Ryou was worried too, but his thoughts centered more on confusion. Malik eventually noticed, and all three stared at the dancing old man. Bakura recovered first.

"...why are you dancing?"

"I'm happy!" Ollivander replied, starting to do the Macarena.

"Why are you happy?"

"That was the best challenge I've had in years, but I finally found a wand that'll react to you! The challenge was payment enough, so no need to worry about cost."

Malik and Bakura wasted no time in escaping the tiny shop. Once they felt they were safe, they slowed to a normal pace and Bakura slipped his new wand in his pocket.

"As I said, British wizards are weird," Malik said.

"Where to next? Knockturn Alley?" Bakura suggested, reading a sign pointing down a shadowy section of wizarding Britian.

"Wish we could, but we wasted enough time finding your wand and I told Isis we would meet her in Magical Menagerie."

* * *

><p>In my opinion, this chapter was sloppy. Very sloppy. I decided not to have anything with Knockturn; no ideas. Next chapter is the train to Hogwarts and, if I feel like it, the Sorting. I filled in my old notebook, so I've been going crazy writing the Sorting in my new notebook. Eh, I'm thinking about putting Malik in sixth year, with Ryou in fifth. What say you?<p>

In a review, pairings were brought up. They'll probably come up again, so I'll say it now: The only pairings will be one-sided. No yaoi. Of course, I am an advocate of cross series pairings, so suggest one and I'll work on it.

On another note, I'm thinking of starting yet another crossover with YGO. Except I don't have a plot in mind and I want to work on these two crossovers I've already started. The idea is on my profile.

**Sarah**: ...you have stunned me. I still say you give the longest reviews I have ever seen. Anyways. Even though Ryou disappeared for three weeks, he was in the care of a wizarding family, and already spent a few days studying those textbooks. He has a little advantage from that, so he's not too far behind. The trio? Not take the shinies? Ah, but what about how Ryou explained the effects in a 'voice the wizards had to strain to hear'? The trio already gets their information garbled, now throw in that even those sitting close to Ryou can barely hear him. Mrs. Black always knows everything in crossovers. It's something of a necessity that she call out the newcomer on their abilities/species.

**Redwolf**: Glad to hear you like the story. I hate that too, but sad to say I'm guilty of doing the same with thirteen of my own stories. Hopefully I'll stay obsessed with writing this story for a while.


	7. Deaf and Blind yet not in the Mind

Some exagerrations on Draco's part. My second biggest weakness in writing is dialog. But yay, no more sloppy writing in this chapter!

**Disclaimer**: I neither own Harry Potter nor Yu-Gi-Oh. Although, Bakura might own a wizard later on.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me, can we sit-" Ryou was cut off by a blond Egyptian poking his head in the compartment, gold earrings swaying around his face.<p>

"Hello, Perry!" A boy with messy black hair waved awkwardly to them, seeming in a daze at their appearence.

"His name is Harry, not Perry." Ryou flashed a shy smile at the compartment and the four people inhabiting it. "Sorry for intruding. We'll find another compartment."

Ryou slid shut the door and began again the process of finding an empty (or close to empty) compartment. This process was cut short, however, as the next compartment revealed Ishizu, reading a book while petting a desert-furred cat. They put their luggage in the racks, Malik started a conversation with Bakura, and Ryou read in his soul room.

Their conversation cut off when the compartment door opened, and a boy with an air of superiority sat with them, no doubt raised with high social status and higher expectations in mind.

His eyes, several shades darker than his platinum blonde hair, scanned over the three, and his scowl turned into a smirk. "I'm Draco Malfoy, known to you as Malfoy. You're the transfers?"

Bakura nodded, already thinking of using this rich boy. "Bakura."

"Malik Ishtal, and that's my sister, Ishizu."

"Are you purebloods?" Draco jumped the question on them. Bakura stayed silent, having been told about the prejudice against muggleborns.

"I can trace my lineage back to Rowena Ravenclaw when she married into my clan," Malik boasted.

"You're related to a Founder?"

"Founder?"

"Yeah, Rowena Ravenclaw was one of the four wizards to create Hogwarts. Being her heir might put you in her house."

"House? I read about those in Hogwarts: A History, but it wasn't clear on what they were," Bakura said.

"You're sorted into a House depending on what your personality is like. I'm in Slytherin," Draco said in a haughty tone.

"What are the Houses?"

Draco, in a tone that indicated he had rehearsed, said, "Slytherin: the cunning and ambitious. Ravenclaw: the clever and knowledgable. Hufflepuff: the loyal and hard-working." His face contorted in a sneer and he lost the reciting tone of voice. "Gryffindor: the reckless and self-righteous."

"Sounds like you don't like Gryffindor," observed Malik.

Malfoy snorted. "That's an understatement. I despise them. Potter especially."

"Potter? I thought his name was Hatter?"

Bakura burst out laughing.

"Potter's there? I definitely don't want to go to Gryffindor."

"You read all of the stuff in the Prophet about him?"

"Nah, I don't trust the Ministry. I met him over the summer." At this point, Bakura pulled out a long wooden stick and started a small balancing game with it on his palm. "He's annoying and inconsiderate of others. He woke me up yelling and complaining about being ignored."

Malik laughed. "I don't think either of us would fit in the self-righteous category, so we won't go to Gryffindor."

"You wouldn't go to Hufflepuff," Bakura pointed out.

Malik winced and shifted slightly as though his current position wasn't comfortable against his back. "No," he admitted. "But you would go there. You don't dare to even think of your father as anything less than loving."

Bakura growled, anger leaking from Ryou. "He's busy," he said, in accordance to how Ryou would react, despite that he felt the same way as Malik.

The wand fell from his hand, rolling across the table to Ishizu. She swiped it before he could grab it again and left the compartment without a word.

Malik moved away from that line of coversation, ignoring Bakura's lingering glare. "So I'm not going to Hufflepuff or Gryffindor-"

"-or Ravenclaw," Bakura said, shutting off the mental link with Ryou to avoid the feeling of betrayal. "Not very clever at mentioning one's last family member, are you?"

"Then you'll go to Slytherin," Draco concluded, "Slytherin is where all of the purebloods go. Now what about Whitey?"

Bakura glared at Draco, but let it drop as Malik started talking.

"Not Gryffindor, that's obvious. Maybe Hufflepuff, but he's very clever, be it with deductable skills or sly moves to gain information.

"Any other traits?"

"Even though he doesn't look it, he has amazing ambition that once almost got him killed."

Draco smirked. "Slytherin quality. We're nearly to Hogwarts, we should change into our robes."

They changed, but Malik and Ryou, wanting to avoid questions at old scars, just put their robes on over their clothes. The rest of the train ride they spent explaining Duel Monsters to Draco.

When the train stopped, they left their bags on the train, at Draco's insistence. At first, they didn't knwo where to go. they started to follow Draco to the carriages, but steered away at the cries for first years and transfers. All of the midgets climbed in boats by fours, and the four transfers separated themselves into two boats.

Boats sheared through the water, leaving behind ragged edges to smooth themselves out. Soft pinpricks of light dotted the darkness, each a candle to quide the rowboats. A feral grin and flash of gold, shadows led one. No reflection peeked through to illuminate voilet or scarlet eyes. Their fellow sailors took no noticed of any vanished students, caught by the grandeur of the castle as they slipped under a curtain of ivy, in to the mouth of a cliff. The current swerved to a dark tunnel, the moist ceiling dripping, extinguishing a few candles and sending shrieks ricochetting off the walls. Two - or shall I say three? - basked in the desolate dark, their forms wavering between corporal and intangible.

They almost seemed to droop in spirits when light bathed them once more. Disheartened, but filled with energy from the shadows, they clambered out of the boat to crowd with the rest around a stern-faced woman. After reminders of etiquette, she led the first-years and transfers to the castle, like an illustration from a fairy tale book. The page turned, to floating candles and an unobstructed view of the stars. An old hat opened what must have been its mouth - and told the tale to match the scene. Like a bard it sang, enrapturing everyone in the book.

The stern-faced woman sat the hat on each of their tiny heads, taking it off again after it called a name. A rousing chorus of applause and cheers came from a table after each shout, guiding the first-year to his or her new home.

Then there were four.

* * *

><p>The Sorting hat had no eyes. He had no ears, nor a nose. He had no brain, but his magical sentience gave him an intellect the size of a planet. Even so, he did very simple things. For instance, he was given 364 days to create a song to sing on one day of the year. He had a mouth of course, and so he would sing his creations. But he had no ears, and so he never heard his creations or the reactions of his audience. Yet still he sang every time he woke up, on that one day of the year.<p>

However, he did more than sing. For creating a song soon becomes tedious when you have 364 days to the deadline and 1,000 years already passed. Running the same lines over in your head, twisting it, mixing it, adding to it, and finally deciding you liked it just how it was before. Then going and doing the same with the rest of the poem before you break it down and reword it, occasionally adding a warning just for the heck of it. Tedious.

His reprieve came in the form of children. Tiny children heads someone settled him on. He searched inside their minds, flipping through those books they called memories until he came to a one word summary of the child's personality

These words meant little to him, other than a name for a cluster of personality traits. Sometimes the children matched those words exactly, but sometimes they had a personality to match two words. In those cases, he scanned for deeper meanings in how the child saw life for an answer, sometimes asking if the child had a preference.

The Sorting Hat was excited. Something about the day made him happy. When was he happy? On the day he woke up. Someone - or something - carried him somewhere and, after a brief interlude, poked him. His frayed fabric lips parted and he imparted a song to his audience, whomever that may be. His brim shivered in excitement. Soon enough he was picked up and sat snuggly on someone's fuzzy shaved head.

In a room of teddy bears and monster trucks, the Sorting Hat appeared. Not as a hat, but with eyes and ears and a nose on a wizard. He had no idea who the wizard was, but that suited him just fine. He called, and a bookcase appeared. The first book on the top left - small with a bright blue cover - opened in front of him. He finished it in less than a second, doing the same with the rest. Time barely passed, the Hat occasionally commenting in the boy's personality. The books varied in shape and size. At the end of the eleventh book, the last sentence incomplete, he decided to finish it.

"You're so nervous, yet sit proudly, feeling the need to show the rest that it's not all bad, despite your fears. You'd do well in GRYFFINDOR!"

At the last word he jumped out of the boy's head, his verdict becoming silence to him.

The memories filled him like a feast. After the last letter of the alphabet he felt ready to sleep again. He waited to be taken back to wherever he slept, but instead was plopped on a silky-haired head.

Inside he said, "Another? Very well."

The bookcase appeared, surprisingly with six extra books. Curious, he read the most recent.

"Transfer students? Never had them before."

This last book written during a period of soul-searching, he leapt from her mind, shouting, "RAVENCLAW!"

The next head had very fluffy hair. The Hat jumped right in, and immediately felt the alarm. He frowned, but called on the bookcase to open the fifteenth book. The bookcase came, but the book rattled against gold chains.

"What's this?"

Two conflicting emotions answered him. That was a normal thing to feel, but not when he searched someone's mind.

A door slammed open. Wait. "A door?"

Someone, possibly whose head he was in, walked in the room, emanating that feeling of anger. A second person, who bore a striking resemblance to the first, came in behind, shivering with fear.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" the first demanded, his red eyes flashing.

The Hat responded with a simple, "I am the Sorting Hat. I am here to sort you."

"Sort us how?" a softer voice asked, and the Hat realized it came from the scared one. His fear changed to curiosity, soothed by knowing the identity of the Hat.

"I search your memories, then I summarise it in one word, and you are sorted." He gestured to the bookcase. "I'll need for you to remove those chains for that."

The fiercer-looking one snapped his fingers and the first of the books flew to the Hat. He intended to solve this little mind-mystery.

Several books flashed in front of him before his eyes snapped to the still angry albino. He caught the glance and held it, returning it with a harsh glare.

The last book finally closed, this one read slowly. The Hat's solemn gaze landed on the softer of the two, now identified as Ryou.

"I am sorry for your loss."

The boy returned the smile. His thoughts read as easily as the books.

"Yes, you persevere through it all, with hard work and loyalty to your father and 'yami'." He chuckled and moved his eyes to 'Bakura'.

"I will need to see your bookcase."

Without a word but with shielded thoughts, they went out the door to another. Ryou poked his head in, curious as the Hat. The room had a distinct Egyptian theme, and the bookcase that appeared carried thousands of scrolls.

'Bakura' raised an eyebrow and commented with some mirth, "I suppose each scroll represents one year."

And so the Hat read. Even if most scrolls were blank or ripped, the others had to be read slower than normal, so as to sort through the confusing and tampered memories.

After some time, Ryou and who he now knew as Akefia started playing Duel Monsters.

The Hat spoke, surprising them. "Strong sense of duty and pride, plentiful ambition, and amazing resourcefulness."

He jumped out of their head shouting, "HUFFLEPUFF AND SLYTHERIN!"

* * *

><p>Yep. Cliffy. No way can they hide Bakura from Dumbledore now. There's a hint as to what Dumbledore thinks of this in chapter one. Actually, the title of this story is a big hint.<p>

I had some fun with the boats. I like being descriptive, but I don't know how to put that in a casual sceneario. It's just weird.

I thought of The Hobbit while writing the part from the Hat's point of view. I thought it was whimsical.


	8. Mental Disorders Are Not Fun

I always found it odd that I could only find one other fanfic that had a double verdict for Ryou. That one stopped immediately after the Hat gave Bakura his own body. I think it was the one where Ryou was Snape's nephew or other such relative.

Anyway. All of the other crossovers I've read (and believe me, I've read a lot) had Ryou sorted into Gryffindor because Bakura refused to be sorted, or Ryou was sent to Slytherin because Bakura demanded to be sorted. I can't see how Ryou would be Gryffindor, unless you added more to those snippets where we actually saw his personality.

Most of the reviews for the last chapter were exclamations of surprise at the double verdict, and wondering how everyone's going to react to that. In truth, I have no idea how to add that to my story (other than Ron's reaction, of course). So I've restricted this chapter so it doesn't include any of the next day's events in the hopes someone will give me a few tips for reactions.

_/Ryou to Bakura, Bakura to Ryou/_

_/Mental link between Malik, Bakura, and Ryou/_

_Language other than English._

Baka -idiot

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Before anyone could think to start clapping, so quickly broken out of their hungry bored stupor after an hour had passed, the Hat shouted the second house name. The Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables went into chaos, both refusing to accept a student that claimed to be of the other house. The Ravenclaw table buzzed with theories and citations from history lessons and books. The Gryffindors whispered among themselves, but quieted when Dumbledore stood. His voice boomed over the Hall and silenced everyone.

Everyone stayed silent, watching, as Dumbledore whispered to Ryou, "Sorting Hat, find the balance."

The Hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Surprised, only a few Gryffindors cheered. Before Ryou could sit with the trio, Dumbledore made him pause with a clap on the shoulder. "Stay behind after the feast."

Dumbledore returned to his seat, and McGonagall resumed the sorting of the transfer students with "Dianne, Sophie. Third year."

The small girl with pigtails in her hair was sorted into Slytherin.

"Ishtal, Malik. Sixth year."

Malik hopped up from where he'd been sitting and stretched. The swagger in his step caught the eye of more than few girls, possibly sparking the idea of a fanclub. His sorting took only a few minutes before the Hat sorted him into Gryffindor, and he joined Ryou and the golden trio.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! there is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Food appeared on every table. Ryou stared in shock at the food. Even though Malik had told him ahead of time that some wizards did this, it came as a surprise. Foods of all nationalities, cooked to perfection, laid across the table. Ryou helped himself to rice and vegetables. Beside him Malik did the same.

Talking soon dwindled and ceased, everyone's thoughts drifting to a warm bed.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"We have had three changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Trelawney is taking a year off to spend time with relatives, and so I'd like you all to be kind to Professor Ishtal, our Divination teacher for the year."

Farther down the table Ryou could see a pair of girls who looked mortified at the previous Divination teacher's absence. A wave of polite applause rippled through the tables.

"Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-"

He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. There was a moment of confusion, and Umbridge cleared her throat before anyone realized she intended to make a speech.

Malik stared off into space during the speech, presumably to play solitaire or read a book in his soul room. Ryou and Bakura paid attention to the speech, both seeing the Ministry's plot between the lines. At the end, a few students clapped, and Dumbledore rose before a proper applause could be given. He continued his own speech as the golden trio chattered away about the same Ministry plot. When the headmaster dismissed them, everyone clustered with their own houses to leave. Malik pulled on Ryou's arm.

"We have to go to the Gryffindor common room."

"Professor Dumbledore said he wanted to talk to me after the feast." Malik hesitated, but let go.

"Just be careful, about what you say and what he says. That 'healing' spell made you sick for the better part of three weeks."

Malik headed off to follow the other Gryffindors. The professors cleared away after the students, leaving Ryou and Dumbledore.

"You have Dissociative Identity Disorder, don't you?"

Ryou froze. He'd been expecting something different, like a slow work up to a warning or interrogation. He spoke up, at the prodding of Bakura.

"Y-yes, I do."

Dumbledore nodded, as though agreeing.

"Arrangements will have to be made, of course. We've only had one student before with this disorder, but I believe we had a good system. Hogwarts's magic will fill in most of the gaps in your memory, and will allow you some form of communication with your other self; think of it as having a second person sharing your body." Dumbledore chuckled. Ryou and Bakura could only stare. Their situation had just been explained and passed off as a mental disorder. Dumbledore went on.

"You and your separate personailty will be treated as though you are the same person. That's how muggle therapy works for the disorder, I heard," he chuckled, then asked, "May I enchant your robes? It will make your robes change color according to which personality is in control."

_/I say no./_

_/I say yes. What harm will it do? If anything, it'll let me have my friends, you have yours, and the personality changes won't completely alienate everyone. They don't even have to know about the shadow realm./_

_/Good argument. Fine./_

Ryou nodded, and Dumbledore waved his wand. Ryou's robes promptly turned white, much like the robes he'd bought the other day.

"I believe a friend of your is waiting outside the hall. Professor McGonagall will show you both to your common room."

Ryou bowed and left the Great Hall.

"Ryou!" Malik ended a glaring contest with McGonagall and tackled Ryou to the ground. "What did he say? What house are you in? Why is your robe white?"

Ryou struggled to break free, but Malik had a strong grip, so he gave up.

"I'm still in Gryffindor-"

Malik jumped off with a cry of joy and took one step up the stairs before remembering something.

"Er- where's the common room?"

McGonagall shook her head in exasperation and started leading them up the stairs.

"Malik," Bakura hissed. Malik glanced at his now black robes and chuckled. Bakura continued in Japanese, "_Open the mind link_."

Malik nodded and reached in his pocket, opening a mental link between the three with the Millennium Rod.

_/So what happened?/_

Ryou answered, _/The headmaster thinks I have Dissociative Identity Disorder./_

_/Explanation?/_

_/Baka./_

_/Yami, don't be mean./_

_/The baka has DID!/_

_/I do?/_

Bakura released a heavy sigh, prompting McGonagall to glance back at them.

_/DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder, a multiple personality disorder. Mariku is your separate personality, created from yourself to deal with a traumatic event. It can take over at any time, and leave you with a blank in your memory. Due to shadow magic, you have a better understanding of your separate personality than other people with DID. Dumblebore thinks I'm Yadonushi's separate personality./_

Malik blinked, absorbing this information. He let out a yelp as his foot fell through one of the steps. A white-sleeved hand grabbed his arm, and he found Ryou helping him up.

_/I think I know how the robe colors work. But won't they notice when you switch at convenient times?/_

Ryou answered,_ /The headmaster covered that as well. Apparently, if I actually had DID, Hogwarts would make it so we could talk inside my head and share the body./_

_/But you already do that./_ It clicked. _/Ah, that's convenient./_

"Password?"

Ryou and Malik found themselves in front of a life-size portrait of a lady in a bright pink dress. She looked down at them with a sniff, her head held with arrogance. Bakura stared at it. He wasn't as much surprised that it was moving as that it was painted in a different style than other paintings he'd seen. Most of the paintings he saw were in an Egyptian style, considering Ryou had spent three weeks with the Ishtals and he decorated Ryou's apartment with the nostalgic art. Then of course there was the artwork on the Duel Monsters cards, and the dark portraits at Grimmauld.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," McGonagall said.

The painting swung out like a door, and the two went in, relishing in the sudden wave of heat. Everything was covered in red and gold. A few students sat in plush chairs surrounding a fireplace and two more played chess at a table worn with age.

Malik, hand still in his pocket, asked,_ /Where do we sleep?/_

_/My guess is up there./ _Ryou followed another student up more stairs. He found a door with his name and five others on it and walked in. Ron seemed to be the only one awake, unpacking the last of his clothing. If his dropping eyes and sluggish movements were anything to go by, he hadn't yet noticed the white-clad Ryou.

Ryou's robe turned black, and Bakura shut the door on Malik. A sickening cracking as door met nose. He grinned at the proceeding curses.

_/Your room is with the other sixth years./_

Malik closed the connection. The robes faded back to white, Ryou pouting at his yami's behavior as he went over to the empty four-poster. The candle on the sidetable sprang to life at the same time Ron extinguished the one by his own bed. With hardly a thought, shadows cooled the wick and the room fell into darkness.

* * *

><p>I honestly don't see Malik as a Slytherin. He has ambition, I'll give him that. But that same ambition can be seen as bravery, bravery to rebel and actually go along withe crazy idea. Bravery also goes hand in hand with ambition. Malik could have had ambition and no bravery, but then he wouldn't have become leader of the Ghouls. Then there's cunning. You could say he's cunning - I say he's ruthless, his yami even more so. In the anime, Mariku simply destroys everything in his way, not caring for consequences. In his duels, he is clever, but relies heavily on his dark powers to win. Mariku doesn't have much of any ambition, besides the will to live, and I'd say his recklessness (which could be taken as bravery) far outweighs his cunning, making him Gryffindor. Malik prefers to forcibly take control using the Rod than cunning strategies, so that would make him more of a Gryffindor. So, the Hat didn't feel the need to shout Gryffindor twice.<p>

So, I finally watched some of the anime. Battle City, of course. That's when you see Bakura a lot, with a different voice actor than before episode 50. That laugh is eerily similar to mine. Anyway, Bakura is a lot more kind and considerate than I thought he would be portrayed. He knew that Atem wouldn't hold back on finishing off the last of his life points, so he took back control of Ryou against Malik's plan so he wouldn't get hurt directly. But he's also sadistic and bloodthirsty, if his occult deck and having a grand time stabbing Ryou's arm are anything to go by. Oh, and the Rod has been called three different things in the sub I'm watching: tin stick, ancient Buddhist stick, and tinny rod. This sub translates straight from the Japanese, not bothering to check spelling or grammar. (but it's so fun watching them exchange insults and taunts)

Okay, long author's notes. Any requests or ideas for something to happen?


	9. 20k word mark!

20k words! In celebration here is a slightly longer than usual chapter. The longer length is also due to the long wait, along with that I copied several sentences and almost an entire section. So yipee, for my hatred of copying from the book you get to read DADA class!

_/Hikari to yami, yami to hikari/_

_-/Mental connection with the Rod/-_

* * *

><p>He walked. A cowl was pulled down low over his face, obscuring his vision and preventing anybody from seeing his face. That didn't matter. They all knew who he was, and he needn't know who anyone else was. The ritual demanded it, and so he complied.<p>

A low drone buzzing in the background rose to a point where it could be identified as chanting. The language involved clicks and rolled vowels, remnants of the civilization lost to humanity. Words overlapped again and again, an effect achieved either through hundreds chanting or in a cave. The single black candle he carried flickered its light on the crystals forming in the walls, reinforcing the latter theory. The narrow tunnel opened and the chanting suffered a tragic increase in volume, the echo now bouncing over a wide area.

His strides never breaking in flow, he took care not to disturb the small piles of gold pooling at his feet. A stand appeared in front of him, its top bare. He placed the candle on it, pulling his hand away as it flared with life. The chanting ceased as torches circling the cavern roared to life, lit by wands at the signal. A smile spread over his face at his illuminated prize, but he hadn't won it yet. Two hooded figures broke from the circle of chanters, coming forward, objects emerging from beneath their robes. One held out a staff covered in engravings like a wand, resuming the chanting from before. The other chanted different lines, waving a bone pendulum and scattering a dust over the head of his prize.

He stepped back into a small circle, double checking the inscribed runes as he did so. Finding no fault, he began a chant himself, sending the other two scrambling to rejoin the circle.

A giddy satisfaction filled him as his prize raised its head, shaking open leathery wings. Coins and priceless items slid to the ground, creating a cacophony of noise over the chanting. His prize yawned, melting a mountain of gold in the process. It seemed to become aware of the other presences in the cavern, and lowered its head so hot, humid breath blew back the hood on he.

He met the dragon's glare, speaking in an unwavering, commanding tone.

"By the constraints of the circle and the chain of runes, I am your master! You will obey my will!"

The glare from the dragon continued, the dragon unmoving from its place. The room froze in anticipation, hearts skipping beats at this moment for their lord's power to peak.

"I charge you to tell me your name!"

The dragon's body racked with a low rumbling sound - laughter, he realized.

"Insolent human. haven't you ever wondered how those ancient people died out so quickly?"

Still laughing, the great beast opened its maw, fire erupting like lava from a volcano.

* * *

><p>Ryou sat up, frantically looking around for something familiar, having been Bakura's host long enough to know he could be in an entirely different place after a single blink. Thankfully, he was in bed, at Hogwarts, and not about to be incinerated. Speaking of which, that 'dream' was strange. It felt too surreal to have been Bakura in possession of his body, and he always dreamt from a third-person point of view, not at a first-person angle. He considered that it might have been a vision, but he'd never had one before and it would be too much trouble to wake up Bakura to ask him about it.<p>

Ryou took another look around the room, watching the sleeping forms of his fellow students in the dark for another minute. One of them - Harry, he recognized, - turned over in his bed, restless. Reassured, his head fell back on the pillow.

_-/Ryou! Wake up or you're going to be late!/-_

The surprise of the mental alarm clock caused Ryou to jump, knocking him off the bed. He landed inches away from one of Bakura's traps, which he disarmed. A quick scan of the room told him that he'd slept rather than rested his head. He dressed in his uniform and white robes and ran down to the common room, where he found Malik waiting for him.

Malik answered the question forming in Ryou's head, "It's safer to wake you up this way."

They headed to the Great Hall, where Ryou felt out of place, being a speck of white in a sea of black. Bakura's comment on how the robe matched his hair didn't reassure him.

McGonagall caught the two as they came in and said she'd been looking for them. Ryou grabbed a quick breakfast and left for his History of Magic class. He managed to get there relatively early, assisted in his journey by kind portraits. He spent some time pacing nervously in a circle panicking about being lost before he discovered he could ask a portrait. After that, he arrived, with a few students already there. What lifted some weight from him, was that they were asleep and as such couldn't gawk at his hair or robes.

No such luck with everyone else filing in the room. Some froze and gaped, others walked to their seats before fully processing his appearance, and the rest whispered to their friends.

"Why isn't he wearing the school robes?"

"What's a Slytherin doing here?"

"That's freaky hair."

"He looks like a ghost."

At the last comment Bakura laughed, but Ryou had long learned to ignore both the comments and the laughter. He'd managed to muddle through all of his previous schools despite his hair, effeminate looks, comas and memory gaps. With those last two no longer a problem, a wizarding school should be somewhat normal for him.

"Ryou?" Ryou turned around to Harry behind him. Ron seemed to be pointedly looking away from him. "Why aren't you wearing the school robes?"

"These are my school robes. Professor Dumbledore-"

Ryou cut off as a ghost flew through the blackboard, pulling his attention away from Harry. Bakura chuckled at his hikari's easily distracted nature.

* * *

><p>Ryou giggled softly at the reprimanding Hermione gave Ron after the redhead interrupted what might have been a conversation between Cho and Harry. Hermione heard and whirled on him, surprise evident on her face.<p>

"Ryou! Why aren't you wearing the school robes?"

Right to the point, with the same words that came out of Harry's mouth earlier.

"These are my school robes." Ryou pointed out the Gryffindor crest to them. "See?"

Hermione huffed. Ron's scowl deepened and he said, "She was wondering why your robes are white."

Ryou's gaze dragged to the floor. After a moment of internal debate, sans Bakura, he smiled at them.

"If you don't mind, I'm still getting used to it, so I'd rather not explain it yet."

Hermione, a bit put out, nodded. Harry and Ron looked like they wanted to say something, but she shushed them.

Their eyebrows went to their hair when they turned around and saw Ryou's robes black, but didn't have the chance to comment on it.

"Settle down." All fidgeting and such ceased the moment the door closed. The professor, Severus Snape, swept over to his desk and stared at them all, sending particularly hard glares at any who reacted to the burn covering half his face.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtably are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL, or suffer my...displeasure."

His gaze lingered on a chubby, round-faced boy, who gulped.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."

His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students. Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation."

Ignoring the warnings of mistakes, Bakura flipped to the page containing the instructions in his Potions textbook. His eyes lit up in fond remembrance as he scanned over the page, his mind bringing forth a concoction he himself had made and perfected to fit this same description. The process was almost exact, with Egyptian alterations.

"-you will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half...start."

Bakura was first to the stores, rummaging through ingredients to find what he remembered from so long ago. The..._eccentric_ look on his face and choice of ingredients caught Snape's eye, but the potions master left him alone, curious as to what would happen.

Not fully satisfied with his raid, he dug out his bag and pulled forth a packet of leaves. Into his cauldron went several ingredients in the form of powders and fluids. As Bakura didn't know a spell for heating the potion, he received the help from another student. He worked away the hour, hovering over his potion, ignoring the hissed worries from Hermione.

Snape swept over the students' potions, awarding points to one half of the room despite mistakes that would kill the drinker and stealing just as many points from the other half despite similar results. He sneered at the correct silver vapor rising from Hermione's cauldron and swept past without a word. Snape had started his examination in the far corner of the room, working his way through those he seemed biased for before working from the back to the front of those he seemed biased against. Which left his last 'victim' as Bakura.

Snape said nothing, watching the spirit's procedure. Bakura returned the silence in kind. This lasted a few sparse minutes, up until Bakura set a book to cover the top of the cauldron, and leaned back in his chair, smirking at the success of partaking in the art of potion-making once again. He then decided to address his silent spectator.

"Can I help you?"

"I told you to brew the Draught of Peace."

Bakura chuckled at the name, earning a questioning look from his interrogator. "And so I did." **(1a)**

"Bakura, are you aware of the differences of the recipes in the book and on the board?"

"I followed neither, so I wouldn't know."

"Then what did you brew?"

"The Draught of Peace."

Snape upturned his nose and scoffed.

"Fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape to the rest of the class. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."

Bakura gingerly lifted the book from his cauldron, smirking as the liquid beneath deepened from cream to a smoky purple. He ladled it into a flagon and had another student banish the rest. The remainder of the class he spent having a laugh at the failures others had produced. A few students quickened their pace, suddenly frantic to avoid anything less than the highest grade. When the bell rang, Bakura noted that Harry was first out the the dungeon, and let Ryou walk to the Great Hall.

"Ryou." Ryou turned around to see Hermione and Ron, the former appearing apologetic, the latter scowling.

Hermione, the one who spoke, said, "We're sorry about our attitude earlier." Ron muttered something, to which Hermione answered with an elbow to the ribs. "We don't know you very well, so there was no reason for us to act that way toward you."

It was an apology. An attempt to get on Ryou's good side by righting a wrong, no matter that there was no wrong. Regardless, Ryou decided to ignore the underhanded trick, smiling at them. "It's fine. There was no harm done."

Hermione nodded as though satisfied, her plan having done its job. Her tone changed drastically with her next words, unknowing to her that it reinforced the idea that she tricked him. "How did you finish the potion so quickly? Lupin said you were new to the wizarding world, yet just now you demonstrated enough knowledge to come up with a new recipe for the Draught of Peace on the spot!"

Ryou blinked in surprise and he skittered away. "I-"

Hermione didn't allow him to begin. "Your robes changed to the proper color the moment we entered the Potions classroom, and you talked back to Snape. It was like your personality-"

She cut off, and Ryou was sure she would have stopped in her tracks had she not paused to interrogate him. Taking this opportunity, Ryou fled down the corridors. At the first corner, he melded into the shadows. Bakura took over to teleport them to the Great Hall.

* * *

><p>Ryou poked his head up through the trapdoor, sneezing as the faint smell of flowers tickled his nose. He climbed up and made a beeline for the window, which thankfully was open to let the room air out.<p>

Lamps hung from the ceiling and a warm fire helped light the room, providing a serene crackling. Ishizu sat criss-cross in the middle of the circle of tables, reading a book. Ryou noticed Harry sat in a position similar to Ishizu on the floor at a low circular table. As there were no chairs, Ryou imitated the two and sat at a table near the window.

Over the next few minutes the rest of the class poked their heads in, exclaiming at the lack of overwhelming fragrances and how they could see the classroom. They sat identical to Ishizu, sparing the seating arrangement a glance before awing at the hieroglyphs on the walls and ceiling. Ryou craned his neck to join them, reading a tale about one of the Gods. Blond hair and a dark-skinned face filled his vision.

"Malik!" Ryou gasped.

"Greetings, Ryou," Malik tilted his head, in the same manner one would use to greet a second person, before continuing, "Bakura."

Anyone watching would have passed the pause as a speech impediment, lapse in the translation spell over the non-English name, or another thought popping up in Malik's head to interrupt.

Malik sat down, laughing when Ryou brought his head to its proper position and sat there, blinking away the stars and sudden dizziness.

"Malik, why are you here?" Ryou asked once the blood levels in his head returned to normal.

"Dumbledore had me tested and assigned me to classes that corresponded to my skill levels," Malik answered. "I have seventh year Ancient Runes after this."

"Ancient Runes sounds interesting. I was just assigned these classes."

Malik smirked. "Fifth year Ancient Runes studies Egyptian. You would have learned nothing that you do not already know. Perhaps Dumbledore wanted you to be with your age group since you are new or Isis chose the classes for you."

Ryou shrugged. His robes turned black and he ceased all interest in the decoration in favor of examining the book on the table.

Malik laughed. "Come to grace us with your presence, Tomb Robber?"

Bakura's red eyes didn't move from the book. "Why are you speaking like that?"

Malik's grin grew wide at having finally been found out. "The translation spell, my dear spirit, has many forms. Including a version to translate my many ramblings to a high-class scholar English."

"You sound like Charles Dickens."

"That is not so," Malik said, shaking his head sagely. "I daresay my words come out more akin to Darles Chickens."

"The spell readings your words before they leave your lips and translates them to English, right?"

"Correct."

The book slammed down on the table and Bakura stared at Malik. "How the Shadow Realm are you able to manipulate pronunciations!" **(1)**

Malik shrugged.

"That brings up another question: how are you able to say Ryou's name?"

"That's a different matter. Names have a certain degree of magic imbibed in them. Should I say Ryou's name with a different meaning in mind, it might come out as 'complete' or 'cure'. If I say a muggle's name, you would hear the English translation, such as 'game' or 'seahorse'. **(2)**

Bakura nodded, turning back to the book. However, Ishizu closed her own book, addressing the class and forcing him to pay attention.

"Welcome to Divination. I am Ishizu Ishtal," she introduced with her thick accent. From the blank looks, Bakura gathered that a few had no idea what she just said.

"You will find before you copies of The Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that will be an asset to everyone in this room, regardless of whether you have the Third Eye or not. **(3)** You are biased to Divination based on your prior teacher's attitude towards the subject. I assure you, there is more to it than omens of death and having the Third Eye. There are few who do not dream, so there is something that can be useful for everyone here in the studies of dream interpretation."

Ishizu had the attention of everyone in the room, although that may have been from her foreign dress. Whites robes were something of a rarity and most preferred to hide away their expensive jewelry.

"Read the introduction, then divide into pairs and interpret each other's recent dreams."

By the time they had all finished reading the introduction of the book, they had barely ten minutes left for discussing dreams. Two boys nearby immediately started going on about a nightmare involving scissors and hats, while Ron and Harry pestered each other in tired voices to start talking. Malik and Ryou flipped through their books, eyes lighting as they came across the meanings of long-ago dreams.

Ryou found Malik's book shoved upon him. "My dream of the night before is found!"

"A graveyard?"

Harry's attention flickered to the two, but it was only a fraction as he split it to pay the same attention to Ron's talk about Quidditch. Bakura noticed it and almost wanted to yell at Ryou when he didn't.

"You either fear the unknown or you are feeling a loss." Ryou looked at Malik expectantly.

"The shadows have long been considered the 'unknown', however, I've lived alongside them my entire life. I haven't lost anything or anyone unless you count the Ghouls, and they would come crawling back the moment I called them."

"As a hikari, you naturally fear the shadows," Ryou pointed out.

"Have you had any dreams about graveyards?"

Ryou shook his head. "I used to, but I know those weren't because of the shadows. The closest my dreams might get to that would be the one I had last night. I dreamt I was walking through a cave and there was chanting everywhere."

Their conversation had almost all of Harry's attention. He hissed something to Ron, whose eyes widened and turned to them with a horrified look. This peaked Bakura's intrigue, so he allowed his yadonushi to continue talking.

"I carried a lit black candle and I was dressed in black robes with a hood pulled down so I could barely see anything," Ryou narrated, focusing on the details, knowing they were important for dream interpretation. "I could tell I was in a cave, though, and I walked through a tunnel."

"Candle: 'To see a burning candle in your dream, signifies that good luck and hope will be coming your way in small and steady amounts. You are in a comfortable stage in your life and may be seeking spiritual enlightenment. Lit candles are also symbolic of intellect, enlightenment, awareness or the search for truth.' Robe: 'To see or wear a robe in your dream, signifies personal issues that you need to confront. The dream may also refer to your secret desire to let loose.' There's nothing about barely seeing, but there's blindness: 'To dream that you are blind, represents your refusal to see the truth or your lack of awareness to a problem. Perhaps you are rejecting something about yourself or your situation.' Cave: 'To see or dream that you are in a cave, symbolizes the womb and thus signify refuge, protection and concealment. To dream that you are walking in a dark cave, represents an exploration of your unconscious mind. It signals self discovery.' Tunnel: 'To dream that you are going through a tunnel, suggests that you are exploring aspects of your unconscious. You are opening yourself to a brand new awareness. Alternatively, it indicates your limited perspective as in the phrase "tunnel vision".'"

Malik stared at the book, then at Ryou. "None of this sounds anything like you. Does it ring any bells?"

Ryou shook his head. "Nothing, except maybe the first part of the cave definition, but that doesn't fit the dream."

"Anything else about the dream?"

"Well, the tunnel opened into a big room, filled with other robed people, treasure, and a dragon."

"Treasure: 'To dream that you find treasures, indicate that you have unveiled some hidden skill or talent. It also symbolizes your self worth and what you have to offer to the world. Alternatively, the dream may be a metaphor for something or someone that your value or "treasure".'" Malik looked surprised. "That one makes sense. You recently discovered you were a wizard; a hidden skill. It might also be telling you that you treasure your dark."

Bakura growled in the back of Ryou's mind. To speak of darks when Harry and his friend were listening! Since Ryou didn't notice the onlookers, he presumed Bakura was angry at the 'treasure' comment. He smiled at the mental image of his yami being protective of him.

To Malik, he said, "That doesn't fit the dream either. In it, I completely ignored all of the gold, instead thinking of the dragon as 'my prize' that had yet to be won."

"Dragon: 'To see a dragon in your dream, represents your strong will and fiery personality. You tend to get carried away by your passion, which may lead you into trouble. You need to exercise some self-control.'" Malik arched an eyebrow at Ryou. "This sounds more like the spirit."

"We have different dreams, so that isn't it at all."

Malik shut his book with an exasperated sigh. "Either we're looking up the wrong things or dream interpretation is a waste of time."

The bell rang at that moment, and they left after Ishizu assigned keeping a dream diary as homework. Malik stayed behind in the classroom, saying he didn't feel like walking to Ancient Runes and would instead shadow transport there. Ryou set off with Ron and Harry, since he didn't know where the DADA class was.

* * *

><p>When students entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head.<p>

The class was quiet as it entered the room; they put an effort into appearing to be rule-abiding, snapping shut mouths despite when the silence became tense and giving the toad-like woman rapt attention.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said, when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled "good afternoon" in reply, muffled by afternoon sleepiness and uncertainty. The majority stayed silent, nerves and rebellion shushing them.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge'. One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' apparently had never yet been followed by a lesson they found interesting. Ryou pulled cut quill, ink and parchment out of his bag. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

Defence Against the Dark Arts

A Return to Basic Principles

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it," stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:

Course Aims:

1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.

2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used

3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.

For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, "Has everybody got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert Slinkhard?'

There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class. Ryou raised his hand. Umbridge's beady eyes snapped to him, something which would have made him cringe had he not used a fiend deck.

"Yes, dear?" Umbridge asked, as though she had no idea why he had his hand up.

Ryou felt a light dusting of pink cover his face. "I don't have a copy."

A wave of her stubby little wand and Ryou had the textbook in front of him. Bakura had thrown his own copy in to the 'waste of time' pile back at Grimmauld Place and had indulged his inner pyromaniac.

"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So: has everyone got a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory _by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.

"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read 'Chapter One, Basics for Beginners'. There will be no need to talk."

Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. Ryou turned to page five of his borrowed copy of _Defensive Magical Theory_ and started to read.

He felt his concentration sliding away from him; he had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Nearby, Ron was absent-mindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. She continued to stare at Professor Umbridge, who was looking just as resolutely in another direction.

After several more minutes had passed, however, Ryou was not the only one watching Hermione. The chapter they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye rather than struggle on with 'Basics for Beginners'. Instead of ducking inside his soul room for a more interesting book, Ryou decided to watch how Umbridge could ignore Hermione, curiosity getting the better of him.

When more than half the class were staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.

"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is?"

"Hermione Granger," said Hermione.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use magic!" Ron exclaimed loudly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.-?"

"Weasley," said Ron, thrusting his hand into the air.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice.

"No, but-"

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

"What use is that?" said Harry loudly. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a-"

"Hand, Mr. Potter!" sang Professor Umbridge.

Harry thrust his fist in the air. Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him, but now several other people had their hands up, including Ryou.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge asked Ryou..

"Ryou Bakura."

"Well, Mr. Bakura?"

"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" said Ryou in his soft voice. "If we're going to be attacked, there's a chance we could get hurt or worse."

"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge, smiling like one of the monsters on Ryou's cards, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

Her smile reminded Ryou of his cards, leading him to think about Zorc, and how he had to live with that unnatural darkness fused with his own darkness for several years. Any one of these wizards could be holding a similar secret. Trying not to shudder, he answered with the same answer he would have given had Zorc still been there.

"Yes."

Professor Umbridge talked over him. "I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed-not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds.

"You have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day-"

"Excuse me," Bakura snapped. The students' heads swiveled around to stare at him, astounded at the harsh tone conflicting with the previous soft one. "I haven't been here the past few years. I haven't been to any wizarding school before. I only learned I was a wizard last summer, and already I'm aware that everything here can go to chaos at the mere flick of a wrist. What does that tell you?"

Umbridge ignored him, dismissing his words where the students around him went wide-eyed as they realized what he was implying.

"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you-"

Bakura laughed, interrupting her tirade.

"Everyone here has a wand, including myself. If I so wanted to, I could aim it at anyone I choose. Even with my mediocre knowledge of Latin I could put together a suitable spell, and I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to figure out the wand movement for the Cruciatus Curse."

Students gasped, but Bakura paid no mind, continuing with a low chuckle, "I'm sure Dumbledore has informed you of my...mental health."

He broke into a high-pitched laugh. The students leaned away from him.

Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretched it out on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and scribbled something. She rolled it back up and tapped it with her wand, sealing itself seamlessly.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall, Mr. Bakura, dear," she said, waving her wand so it floated over to him. Bakura smirked at the obvious ploy at avoiding coming any closer to him, making her flinch. He took the roll and left the room looking pleased with himself. He walked down the corridor, waiting until he was certain he was out of earshot.

"That was fun. I think I'm going to like it here." Bakura laughed, but it abruptly cut off.

Ryou hung his head. "Second day of term, on my birthday and you've already gotten me in trouble!"

_/Now find McGonagall's office before a teacher finds us and gets you in more trouble for being out of class./_

Ryou made a noise similar to a squeak and set about asking the portraits. They were startled at first that he seemed to be talking to something that wasn't there, but Bakura coaxed the directions out of them.

* * *

><p><strong>Bonus!<strong> -The dream interpretation gave me this idea. This technically didn't happen, but if you'd like, pretend it happened during some free time between classes.

"You know, I think I may have figured out the meaning of your dream, Ryou."

"What is it?"

"Maybe you're ignoring your treasure, your dark, in favor of trying to win someone, like wooing someone, that has the same personality as a dragon."

"But who has a strong will and fiery personality, tends to get carried away and often...gets...in...trouble..." Ryou trailed off, sudden understanding dawning on him. His face colored in embarrassment.

Malik chuckled, "Who is it?'

"Malik... the description fits you."

Malik abruptly stopped laughing.

* * *

><p><strong>(1a)<strong> I at first misspelled "Draught of Peace" and had it as "Draught of Living Death" everywhere it was said. So, this sentence made sense at the time. It might not now, but I still think the potion name has some sort of irony to it, so I kept Bakura's reaction.

**(1)** "manipulate pronunciations" -Bakura is talking about how Malik first played around with the name "Grimmauld Place." Malik doesn't know English. He heard "Grimmauld Place," but when he hears "grim old place," he hears whatever it is in his native language. So he technically shouldn't have been able to make the connection between the two.

**(2)** Yugi's name is Japanese for game, while Kaiba's name is Japanese for seahorse. The episodes I watch have very rough, exact (and most of the time funny) translations. This also explains that shadow and wizard magic is different, and that Yugi and Kaiba are not wizards. Ryou has a lot of translations, most of them having to do with spirits.

**(3)** The Third Eye is something in reference to some myths and religions that attached it to seer abilities, along with the Eye of Horus that appears on YGO characters' heads at times. It's mostly a mix-up with the Seeing Eye that Trelawney initially uses and Ishizu's lack of knowledge of English.

I dream in third person. It's so weird, yet it always feels real. Usually I'm not even in the dream, instead watching it like a movie and calling an anime character 'me'. Well, I do fall asleep thinking about fanfiction crossovers.

In Ishizu's greeting to her class I originally had her give a warning after saying there was more to divination than warnings. It cracked me up after I read over it, but it was hypocritical so I changed it.

All of the dream meanings I found online, and were copied and pasted almost exactly.

For DADA class, I decided to have something happen that hasn't happened in DADA class for all of the HP crossovers I've read so far: Bakura laugh. Also, if you're wondering, Ryou took the place of Dean and I just edited Dean out of Umbridge's monologue. If you took out Ryou's lines, you wouldn't mess up the flow of the story. So, in essence, Umbridge acted like Ryou didn't exist.

I built myself a deck the other day. A shame Yu-Gi-Oh isn't that popular anymore. No one to play against. I have a few cards Bakura uses, but most of Bakura's cards don't actually exist. I used to have a few YGO magazines on the cardplay, but I got rid of those last year, when I thought I would never like it again. I'm thankful I still have a big tin full of cards, along with a case full of different versions of Dark Magician in tiny statue form. (I'm not rebelling against Bakura, honest! I have a Kuriboh statue, that's a fiend monster!)

Okay, forget last chapter,_ this_ is a long author's note.


	10. September Second

**NOTE**: So apparently a ton of people got confused about the 'dream' Ryou had. Why? I left a ton of clues! 1. Ryou stated it felt like a vision. 2. In Potions class Snape's face was burned. 3. Harry noticed them talking about it and paid careful attention. 4. Go back to chapter 3 and read Malik's letter. 5. The 'dream' didn't make sense in dream interpretation. 6. There's also the little detail that Harry might have had the same 'dream'.

Italics are language other than English.

* * *

><p>McGonagall stared at the note, mouth moving like a fish's. Ryou shifted uncomfortably and he wondered if it might have been a good idea to change whatever it said. Finally she regained her grasp on English.<p>

"You threatened to use an Unforgivable on her!"

Ryou winced.

"I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen!"

McGonagall sighed. "Have a seat, Bakura."

He acquiesced, and she held out a tartan tin to him. "Biscuit?"

Ryou wasn't sure how it would help, but took one of the lizard-shaped cookies nonetheless. He started nibbling on it, sitting there in silence as McGonagall rested her head in her hands.

"SHUT UP!"

The voice came from the corridor, followed by the sound of running. McGonagall stood and opened the door, alarmed at the yelling.

"What on Earth are you shouting about, Potter? Why aren't you in class?"

"I've been sent to see you," said Harry stiffly.

McGonagall sighed. "Come in, Potter."

Harry came in and sank into the chair next to Ryou, looking everything like a trouble-making kid with anger management issues. McGonagall ignored him for now, restoring her attention to Ryou.

"Now, Bakura, I know I'm supposed to have you take these detentions with Umbridge. But I'm going to let you off with just a warning not to let it happen again."

Ryou let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He nodded.

"Classes will be dismissing in a few minutes, so you can head to dinner now."

Ryou left, Harry flashing a small smile to him on his way out. The trouble Harry got in more than likely wasn't as bad as the threats, so he evidently thought he would get off the hook like Ryou.

Ryou took out a book and read as he walked. He didn't want to think of the anger and yelling that would soon be coming from McGonagall's office. Harry didn't react well to unfair treatment.

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy walked in to the Great Hall with his usual arrogant smirk, expecting his cronies to flank him and his trophy girlfriend to fawn over him.<p>

Instead, the space around him was mysteriously devoid of Slytherins. Annoyed, Draco cast his gaze around the room to find them.

To his surprise, the majority of the Slytherin table and a scarce few others crowded around the middle of the table. None of them spoke, but an accented voice came from the center. Closer inspection revealed a blond third year embellishing a tale involving the French Quidditch team and a boggart, her sentences dotted with French words, which another student would quickly translate.

Draco found Crabbe at the end of his house table, laughing with other Slytherins about an incident that happened in the Gryffindor DADA class. Judging from the number of inside Slytherin jokes, it involved Potter in some way. Despite how much he wanted to hear the story to tease Potter about later, Draco decided to find Goyle and Pansy.

He found Goyle at the Ravenclaw table, among a cluster of other students of varying houses. They all talked quite animatedly at a level Goyle couldn't possibly be able to keep up with. Draco remained confused on that aspect until he realized who there were crowded around: the transfer girl from India. She had no trace of any accent, due to the use of a translation spell.

Draco assumed Goyle was staring at her in a daze, deaf to the mathematical theories pouring out of her mouth in infatuation. Draco left the love-struck idiot alone, intent on locating Pansy.

A groan escaped him when he found her. Trust his girlfriend, fiance from an arranged marriage decided before conception, to wander over to the Gryffindor table. What made it worse, was the blush on her cheeks and the way she batted her eyes. That set off the boiling of rage. A Gryffindor dared steal the heart of his girl!

Draco stormed over to his rival house's table and to the crowd at the end. He'd lost sight of Pansy by then, hidden in a shift of the throng of girls. A window opened between the girls for a moment, just enough for him to glimpse the (un)lucky Gryffindor.

A shock of white. Blond hair that contrasted with dark skin. Draco sneered. The two that had insisted they would never be Gryffindors. Liers. They knew all along where they would go and messed with him so it would be easier to persuade him to pull strings in the Ministry in their favor. Even now they pulled strings in Hogwarts, if Bakura's white robes were any implication. They had Ishtal's sister planted in the staff, even if she posed in a fraud's position. They might have pulled strings to get her there. Draco snorted. Visiting relatives, indeed.

Draco returned to his table, and stabbed a sausage with a fork. He would have revenge, but not here, not now; not when the tables could so easily be turned against him. He had to plan. Oh yes, Draco would destroy Bakura and Ishtal, and only once they begged at his feet for forgiveness would he have revenge.

"Draky?"

Draco looked up from where he was angrily mutilating his sausage. Pansy's eyes flickered to the poor meat in concern.

"Is something wrong?" asked Pansy.

"'Is something wrong'," he repeated in a mocking tone, no mirth like he had when mocking Potter. She knew. "You were fraternizing with the enemy!"

Pansy had the gall to appear offended. "I was listening to Bakura talk about Egypt!"

"He's a Gryffindor!"

"The Hat said he was half Slytherin." Pansy sniffed, defending her claims. "There's nothing wrong with listening to a half Slytherin."

"It is when he's in Gryffindor!"

"Gryffindor or not, Slytherins look out for their own, even if they're half Slytherin."

"But he's a Gryffindor!" Draco insisted.

Pansy made a sort of gesture to the ceiling as if asking it why, before sighing. "Obviously we're on different sides of this opinion. Let's not fight over this. We won't be able to stand each other if we do."

Draco forced himself to calm down and nodded. "You're right. Neither of us will speak of any of it in the presence of each other."

Pansy nodded in agreement and sat next to him. Hesitantly, she pointed out something they learned in Potions that day, and almost immediately they found themselves deep in a conversation. They laughed at jokes only they would understand and pretended they alone were in the Great Hall. They left dinner early, sated by their talk and drunk on each other's presence.

* * *

><p>It seemed that at dinner, everyone decided it would be the perfect time to ask the transfers all of their questions. When Ryou walked into the great Hall, he was bombarded with questions, most of which he ignored. After being shoved full of information to compensate for missing four years of magical knowledge, Ryou couldn't think straight. That last book had sent him over the edge. His mind refused to translate English to his mind's current dominant language of Japanese, so he could only smile at the crowding girls.<p>

He located Malik and sat beside him. A girl, eager to please, served generous helpings of food for him; another tried to feed him. Ryou's headache prevented him from forming any objection, allowing the girls to squeal with delight as he molded to their heart's content.

Malik watched the pampering with no little amount of amusement.

"Long day?" Malik asked jokingly.

_"My head hurts,"_ complained Ryou in a mix of Japanese and Ancient Egyptian. The girls squealed at hearing the foreign words.

_/Sleep, Yadonushi. Your soul is feeding off of mine,/_ came the spirit's voice.

_"But I have homework-"_ Ryou cut off and in his place sat Bakura, looking very much awake and enjoying the girls' treatment. Blushes appeared on the girls when he acknowledged their presence at last.

_"He can do that later,"_ Bakura said. _"Tonight, we explore."_

As they ate, more and more of the girls requested to be told of different countries.

Bakura talked of Egypt, earning a glare from Malik as the Egyptian was left to explain the advanced muggle technology of Domino. Once Bakura finished his tale, he smirked at Malik, who was tongue-tied on explaining a helicopter. Bakura made a show of yawning and excused himself from the Great Hall, subtly pushing his fangirls to turn into Malik fangirls.

Bakura leaned against the wall. The torches stuttered around him. It would take Malik a while before he could shake away the girls; they may have allowed Bakura to slip away, but he doubted they would allow their last object of affection to escape the same way. He wondered if Malik regretted trying to form that fanclub.

Bakura was cut from his musings as a figure glided down the hall.

"Curfew is at ten. Be sure to return to your dorms by three."

"Of course, Isis." Bakura filed away that piece of information. One could not so easily disregard anything a seer said.

A mind link opened with Bakura, but Ryou was fast asleep. Swears cursing his very being streamed into his mind; Malik had not forgiven him for the treachery. It soon lulled to a low muttering, to a point where Bakura could block it.

_-/Tonight, we explore,/-_ Bakura repeated, walking down the hall and turning at several points to where Malik was, led there by the Ring. They flashed identical grins and melded into the shadows.

* * *

><p><em>-Bakura./-_

Bakura's eyes glinted red as they focused on Malik's violet ones; a shadow mage could hide from all but another shadow mage, unable to hide their eyes from shadow magic.

_-/Is Ryou still asleep?/-_

_-/Yes./-_

_-/September second is Ryou's birthday, correct?/-_

_-/You have a present for Ryou?/-_

Malik's eyes bobbed, and disappeared. They appeared a second later, two boxes shoved in Bakura's, now Ryou's, hands.

Ryou unwrapped one of the presents, but his eyes turned disappointed when he saw it.

_"It's a chess set."_

"Not just any chess set. A wizard's chess set. It's from Isis."

Ryou stared at the chess set in confusion. He saw no difference between it and other chess sets besides the style of the pieces. Malik sighed and took it from Ryou, then set it up.

"Pawn, move to D-1."

To Ryou's amazement, one of the pawns moved forward and the pawns of the other side tensed, as if anxious to move as well.

Malik laughed at Ryou's surprised expression. "You aren't going to open my present?" he asked in mock sadness.

Ryou blushed and tore open the other present, dropping it in his haste. It made a hollow sound, but nothing rattled inside. Ryou was relieved that nothing had broken, but he was curious as to what it might be. Once he cleared away the wrapping paper he had a cardboard box on his lap. The top opened, and Ryou pulled out the small piece of paper inside. The incredulous look on the albino's face sent Malik into a fit of laughter.

_"Malik! This isn't a birthday present!"_

"It was wrapped up like one, wasn't it?"

_"An I.O.U. is not a present!"_

Malik recovered from the fit, and said in a calm tone, "I only remembered your birthday yesterday, so I had no time to pop back to Diagon to get you something. I'll get you your real present later."

* * *

><p>I like all ways that Draco is portrayed in fanfics, but this personality fits for what I have planned for him later on. Yes, one of the few plot points I have planned has to do with Draco. My Draco has a similar personality to another character in the HP series, which if you recognize what Draco said to Pansy, you'll know who it is. I enjoy drawing the similarities between the two.<p>

Pansy settled the dispute in an odd way, but that's happened with me and my friends before. One time, the friendship had a ton of those disputes and it fell apart. Another time, we spent many hours arguing our views on the amount of description we believed should be used in a story - we recently realized we had the same views, just different ways of explaining our point. Little PansyxDraco fluff for you, anyway.

I originally planned to write a bunch of description for Malik's and Bakura's exploration, but that failed epically so I decided to just chronicle dinner.

Heh heh, short chapter compared to the last one. Chapter 11 is already coming along nicely, and I started two more fanfictions after I promised not to start another until one of these crossovers was done. All this writing and reading has my muse thinking up ideas like a hamster on an exercise wheel. Besides, my story fell of the first page of YGO crossovers. I had to rectify that.

I just noticed something: R.A.B. - Ryou Akefia Bakura. I don't have a clue how to fit that in here, it's just something funny. Wait - what if Ryou's father's name started with an R and his middle name with an A? Nah, I have plans for Ryou's father. Le gasp! Another planned plot point? Blasphemy!


	11. Pretty Pulsating Panicking Goblet

Disclaimer: I forget this often. I don't own YGO or HP. Hey, did you know Anne Rice hates fanfiction?

* * *

><p>Ryou woke up at a reasonable time the day after his birthday and went about his morning rituals at a reasonable pace. One such morning rituals included disarming the traps set around his bed. His dorm-mates gave him odd looks as he did so, but in his half-asleep stupor, Ryou never noticed them. They voiced their curiosity and compared him to Luna, for they, as they didn't share a body with an ancient thief king, didn't see the thin strands of wire, numerous hidden blades, or the tiny niches Bakura had installed on his first night. They merely left the albino to paw at the furniture and carpet.<p>

Ryou's first class of the morning was Charms class, which he found to be taught by a professor even shorter than Yugi. Flitwick showed him the wand movement and incantation for the Levitating Charm, then left him to try it while he talked to the rest of class about OWLs.

"Swish and flick," muttered Ryou to himself, waving his wand as he had been shown. Nodding to himself in self-satisfaction, he pointed the wand at the feather on the desk.

Movement to the side caught his eye. Several students had already grown bored of Flitwick's lecture and stared at him for mindless entertainment. He noticed one of them glance at his wand, and a flash of fear crossed their eyes. Ryou supposed it was because of his appearance. He looked like a ghost, with his white hair, white robes, pale skin, and now he could tack his white wand onto the description.

Shrugging off the stares, Ryou refocused on the feather. He waved his wand and said the words.

Flitwick glanced his way, making him felt like he had interrupted. A few students sniggered at his failed attempt. Ryou tried again, trying his best to imitate Flitwick's pronunciation.

The next fifteen minutes went on in a circle of repeated events, the students steadily finding Flitwick's squeaky voice more interesting. Ryou tried again and again, changing pronunciation and wand movement slightly every new attempt. His arm eventually got sore, and so he switched hands, being almost ambidextrous. Bakura tried for a while, but the attempts always ended in the same result as with the wands at Ollivander's.

Flitwick finished his lecture and had the students practice summoning charms. Judging from the groans, they had already learned them, but nonetheless cries of _"Accio!"_ filled the air as Flitwick hopped down from his perch of books.

"Any progress yet?" Flitwick's voice was bright and cheery, but when Ryou looked at him, his eyes betrayed sadness and pity.

"I think I'm saying it wrong. Can you repeat the incantation?"

"Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa," Flitwick articulated, making the 'gar' long.

"Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa," Ryou repeated with perfect clarity. Flitwick nodded, and gestured for Ryou to try again.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Ryou swished and flicked his wand in time with the incantation, making sure to keep his eyes on the feather.

It stayed still as stone.

Ryou looked to the professor, waiting for the criticism that would show him the error in his casting. Flitwick frowned at the feather, troubled eyes staying on it as he spoke to Ryou.

"Perhaps you might be better at summoning charms," Flitwick said quietly.

Flitwick turned his attention away from Ryou, correcting the wand movements of other students. Ryou blinked in confusion, but joined the rest of the students in summoning cushions from across the room.

It took him a few minutes to find the incantation and be corrected on pronunciation by a student that wasn't Hermione, and a few more minutes before he felt he had the wand waving. However, as with the levitation charm, when he put both together nothing happened. At some point the spirit went to sleep out of sheer boredom.

* * *

><p>As with Charms, McGonagall showed Ryou a basic spell and lectured the other students on OWLs while he tried to cast it. It had to do with turning a matchstick into a needle, with a simple enough wave and word. He attempted to do it quietly, but after the professor pointed out he wouldn't be able to pronounce it correctly like that he settled with a normal volume.<p>

McGonagall eyed Ryou's match with disappointment. However, as with Flitwick, she moved him onto a higher-level spell. Not as high a level as the rest of the class, who worked on vanishing spells.

Ryou stared at the rat and wondered, briefly, if it was inhumane to turn it into a glass goblet. He shrugged. McGonagall would be able to reverse it and any mishaps. So he waved his wand and said the incantation, imagining the final product.

The rat sat on its hind legs, sniffing the curious white stick.

Ryou continued attempting the spell using the same self-correction method as he did with the levitation charm. The Gryffindors paid no attention to him, having seen his performance in Charms. The other house soon lost interest as well, focusing their attention on their snails. McGonagall awarded points to Hermione for casting the spell correct first. It cheered Ryou somewhat that learning a new spell wasn't always easy.

The rat chewed on a strand of his hair. Ryou put his wand down and watched the rat, giving his hands a break.

"Squeak!"

Ryou smiled. A thought struck. If he could bypass the Fidelious like the Ishtals, then maybe he would be able to do wandless magic like them, too. It was worth a try, and if it didn't work, then no harm done.

That thought in mind, Ryou stared intently at the rat, replacing it with a pristine glass in his mind's eye. He spoke the incantation.

The moment he finished pronouncing the last syllable, Ryou let out a noise of surprise and stumbled away from his desk.

A rat no longer sat on his desk. Instead, there stood a goblet-shape, but it could hardly be called glass. It appeared as though someone had cut the rat into pieces and then sewn it all in the shape of a goblet in a sort of morbid mosaic. The hair the rat had been chewing appeared as the thread sewn to keep it together.

The goblet made strained squeaks and wobbled as though in horrible pain. Tufts of fur stuck out, but flattened as blood slicked them down. A puddle of blood formed on the desk.

Several of the students shrieked at the sight, all of them turning green. McGonagall cast a banishing spell, but nothing happened. She tried another spell, presumably to reverse it, with the same lack of result. Finally she summoned a box to hide it from the view of the students.

"Class dismissed," she snapped. Nobody hesitated in leaving.

"Bakura." Ryou cringed, but didn't try to escape. "A word with you."

"Yes?" Ryou slunk away from the box, closer to McGonagall.

"Can you explain how this-" she gestured to the box. "-happened?"

"I was practicing the spell and...you know of the Ishtal magic, right?'

"Yes, I'm part of the order. Sirius explained it to me." Her eyes turned cloudy and she whispered, "I'm sorry."

Ryou blinked in confusion. Her voice had the same ring as the time when his neighbor had said the same thing, several years ago, at his mother and sister's funeral. He cast his mind back to when the Ishtals explained their magic at Grimmauld, but still felt as if he missed something when he couldn't understand why she said it now.

"I thought that maybe my magic was like their's, and that my wand suppresses my magic. So I tried to do it wandless and, well, that happened." Ryou shrugged, glancing at the box.

McGonagall stared at him, as if that would make him say something otherwise. "I'll accept your explanation this time, but I don't believe even a failed spell could produce this result. Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic here at Hogwarts, and if I catch you doing something like that again, you won't find yourself in this classroom again. Remember that. Dismissed."

Ryou left, only to pause in a hallway, realizing he now had no one to follow to his next class. A bit of asking paintings proved that he would have to find a professor to ask for directions, someone other than McGonagall.

* * *

><p>Care of Magical Creatures progressed with Ryou feeling like just another student. After being led to a small hut by a helpful Ravenclaw prefect, Ryou learned about Bowtrucles at the same time as the rest of the class. This was a class that learned about whatever the teacher brought in that day, so Ryou couldn't be alone and learn about creatures learned in a past year. No, he was able to join the rest of the students and learn at the same rate as them. A rare occurrence, considering how he constantly moved and changed schools, leaving him behind or ahead of his classes. Bakura slept, so he felt normal to have his voice being the only one he heard in his head. This sense of normalcy comforted him, like tense muscles finally massaged to relaxation. Ryou welcomed it.<p>

Lavender and Parvati asked for Ryou to join them in drawing a Bowtrucle shared between them, and to Ryou's delight, didn't ask many other questions. They submersed him in a conversation about Divination class, and swapped stories about their past experiences with seers. He inwardly cringed when he unexpectedly became more attractive to them after mentioning he had his own tarot deck.

Parvati whined about the overcast weather and how she had wanted it to be sunny all of the first week. Lavender agreed with a wistful smile. Ryou laughed. He suspected his close connection with the shadows made him prefer the dark clouds, but it could be passed off as a personal quirk.

The magical walking sticks fascinated him, but after a while, that's all they were to him. His mind would stray back to the Transfiguration incident, and how cool the goblet had been. It reminded him of his occult deck. He found himself in awe at the ingenuity of using the hair to sew it together.

After Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology went along with the same feeling, although more than a few Gryffindors glared at him. Professor Sprout didn't give him the essay to work on, saying he could instead use the time for catching up to everyone else.

Ryou felt indifferent toward Herbology. Gardening didn't interest him, and the unique plants held his attention for as long as a Bowtrucle. During the OWLs lecture, he found himself gravitating toward the more dangerous plants in his textbook.

* * *

><p>When writing the Charms class, I was hoping for a feel of "haha, he's bad at it" from some of the students, and a feel of "you poor boy" from Flitwick - and the students once it sunk in that he couldn't cast the charm. I kinda thought of it as how wizards would think of muggles and squibs. Comparing his looks to a ghost and having him be separate from the rest of the students were just more ways to ostracize Ryou.<p>

I suppose I'm trying to emphasize how hard Ryou has it. His father pretty much neglects him, he moves around too much to settle and deal with his grief for his mother and sister, he's a outcast because of his albinism, his lifestyle in general is screwed up because of the spirit, he lives alone, and now he has these issues with magic. Yet he just smiles and acts polite and goes about living. He's conditioned himself to not need anyone, and banishes all negative thoughts as soon as they crop up. That's his state of mind, but he needs everything we need and he doesn't address this issue.

Anyway, that'll come up again later on in the story. 'Cause I love playing on stuff like that. Er, but it won't be there until near the end of the Hogwarts school year or at the beginning of sixth year.

Although, I think I did better at emphasizing the lack of feather-levitating than the lack of needed repairs at Ollivander's.

I like the goblet. I think it's the most creative thing I've ever thought up all year.

I also gave Ryou some friends near the end. I thought it would be kinda cute. Make him feel normal for a while. Even if this chapter was boring.

Next chapter!: The answer to a question none of you have been asking. Whatever Hermione's doing since she paused mid-sentence talking to Ryou. And I might have something with Umbridge. And maybe Bakura and Malik wander upon some secret of Hogwarts.


	12. Dumbledore Worries

There are many ways to phrase an action or feeling. If I want a negative mood, I can say that Hermione's voice is unfeeling. If I want a positive mood, I can say her voice is matter-a-fact. I can have Ron appear brave or rude, Hermione bubbling with excitement or demanding answers, Dumbledore as plotting or ignorant of some things.

So much power goes to those who wield words.

* * *

><p>Ryou felt a growl in the back of his mind. He looked up from his book, and he considered Ron and Malik's game of chess before he noticed Hermione making her way over to him, the smile of hard-won success on her face. His heart sunk when he caught a glimpse at the cover of the book she clutched to her chest: <em>Dictionary of Mental Disorders<em>.

"You have a split perosnality disorder," she proclaimed. The chatting and writing ceased in the Common Room. One voice continued talking, but another quickly shushed it.

"A what?" Ron asked. The redhead seemed blind to the troubled look on Ryou's face. If he had noticed, he might have thought to stave off this confrontation.

"It all fits," Hermione went on, ignoring Ron and the sudden silence around them. "The switches between polite and rude, the two Houses, the dual-colored robes, the incident in Potions-"

Halfway through her reasoning, Ryou put his book up in a flimsy sort of shield, not enjoying the dissection of his actions and frightened by the unfeeling voice that poked him like a scalpel. When he did that, the remainder of Hermione's 'support' died on her lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It was a secret you wanted to reveal yourself, wasn't it?"

Ryou peeked over the book he refused to let drop. At her ashamed and hurt face, he nodded.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"It's fine," he said tentatively. "I had to admit it one day or another. I suppose you took care of that for me." Hermione smiled.

"Oi, what's a split disorder personality?"

"Ron!" Hermione's smile became a scowl aimed at said redhead.

"What?" Ron was completely unaware at how his question might have been insensitive. Luckily for him, Malik came to his rescue.

"Split personality disorder. In short, half the time Ryou is someone else."

"Someone else? Who?"

"Well, it's still him, but." Malik shrugged, at a loss. Ryou jumped in, book now dropped.

"It's like there are two people sharing my body, and they share my name."

Ron nodded, showing he understood, but his facial expression showed disbelief.

"Honestly, Ron, it means his brain is damaged-"

Ron choked on air. "Damaged! You mean he's-"

"Insane? Raving mad? Touched in the head? Resident of the loony bin? " Malik filled in, smirking. "It's been proven that he's mentally ill."

Ron looked at Ryou with new fear. "Blimey..."

Ryou felt the stares of all present in the Common Room, even with his book-shield back in place. Hermione's questions seemed to have halted for now, buying herself in her book to wallow over her actions.

The Common Room shook itself out of its stupor, gossip covering a new topic and essays forgotten in favor of excited letters. After completing a game of chess, Ron turned to Ryou, a thought striking him.

"So does that mean only one of you is Slytherin?"

Ryou nodded. Ron continued with another thought.

"What do we call the other you?"

Hermione's head shot up from her book. "You can't call them different names. They're the same person."

Ron furrowed his brow, taking her criticism in stride. "What if we give you both nicknames? You know, so it won't be so confusing when talking."

"Call them by their robe colors, light and dark," Malik suggested.

Hermione frowned. "Wrong translation. it's white and black, not light and dark."

Malik shrugged.

"We can't call either of them dark anyway," Hermione added. "People will get the wrong idea."

"Wait," Ryou stopped their train of thought. "We've been called light and dark before, but not in English, but Japanese. I'm Hikari Ryou, and my other, Yami Ryou. That's what Malik means."

Malik hid his amusement, but a few chuckles escaped, prompting Hermione and Ron to stare at him. He answered the unsaid question. "In Japan, Light is a girl's name."

Ron laughed at this. "You definitely look the part, mate."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ryou blushed and kept his eyes on his book.

"The translation spell translates everything I say to English, even though I can still understand all of the languages I'm fluent in. Since I can't speak Japanese right now, I'll stick to calling them Ryou and Bakura."

* * *

><p>Dumbledore fell silent, watching the last swirl of robes as the professors left. The staff meeting had ajorned, and the head meeting began. A circular table filled the Great Hall, the House tables transfigured to one that would grant any seated a feeling of equality.<p>

He began the meeting with an innocent question. "How are the transfers settling?"

Surprisingly, Snape spoke first. "Miss Diane is getting along with her classmates and has a knack for Potions."

"She's very interested in Charms. She's going to be a fine student," Flitwick added.

McGonagall seemed stiffer than usual, and hesitated to speak. "Ishtal is brimming with confidence, although he's lacking in Transfiguration."

"I've never seen a wand like his. At request, he displayed powerful wandless magic to the class," Flitwick added, his squeaky voice raising pitch in excitement.

"Mr Ishtal has much potential in Potions, but he tends to rush when stressed," Snape said in his monotone voice. "His clan magic enhances effects of any potion he brews, although I will not be surprised when he melts a cauldron."

Dumbledore noted that McGonagall leveled a glare at Snape for the last comment and surpressed a sigh. House rivalries stayed strong, despite the annual Sorting Hat warning.

Flitwick's squeaking voice brought him back. "Miss Rettah is gaining much interest from the rest of the Claws, much of it having to do with her foreign religion. Her classwork is just the same as the rest of her classmates'."

They fell into silence. Finally, Sprout asked, "Who has the last transfer? The one that grew up as a muggle?"

Dumbledore looked to McGonagall, who tensed again. Noticing the action, the rest of the heads focused their attention on her.

Seeing as McGonagall was not going to start her evalutation of Ryou, Snape started. "Mr Bakura has an aptitude for Potions. In class, he brewed the Draught of Peace using different ingrediants. Something that should not have been possible. His cheek will not be tolerated, however."

Flitwick said, "He was shy and polite in my class."

"That would be an example of his mental disorder," explained Dumbledore. "Both of you experienced different personalities."

Snape nodded in understanding. Flitwick continued on. "What I found strange, was that he couldn't cast the levitation or summoning charms. His wandwork and pronunciation was perfect. I don't know what could have gone wrong."

Dumbledore frowned, contemplating this discovery. Flitwick turned to McGonagall. "What do you think of him, Minerva?"

"As with you, he couldn't cast transfiguration spells. Although, in my class he attempted to do a spell wandlessly. It was a simple second-year spell, turning a rat into a goblet. The result looked like a rat that'd splinched itself ten times over-" the mental image turned the present company a pleasant shade of puce. "-then been stitched together in the shape of a goblet. I couldn't reverse or banish it, so I had to dismiss the class. Bakura insisted it was an accident, so I let him off with a warning."

The staff made no comments. Dumbledore dismissed then with a quiet, "I believe I've heard enough."

The heads vanished to their rooms quickly, leaving Dumbledore to make his way to his own quarters. He rubbed his face and sighed, feeling the century old man he was.

Dumbledore's back-up plan would fail at this rate. The Light needed that power, but what good was power when one had no idea how to use it?

* * *

><p>Ever heard of Dawn, from Pokemon Diamond and Pearl? In the Japanese version, her name is Hikari. Hikari is a girl's name in Japan. The closest male equivalent I can think of would be 'Raito', as with Detah Note's protagonist: RaitoLight. However, 'raito' is just how a native Japanese speaker would pronounce 'light' and as such wouldn't quite make sense, as neither Ryou nor Malik have Japanese accents.

Malik's playing up the entire 'disorder' lie and having fun with it, watching peoples' expressions when he tells them his friend is insane and getting them to call Ryou by a girl's name. Ryou's letting it all progress along. As for Bakura, well, he's probably cackling in his soul room, plannning to use this 'insanity' as a pass for a little fun.

**READERS! I have a request.** Well, more so I request requests from you. The waterfall of reviews seems to have dried to a gentle trickle these past few chapters (yet, the number of alerts is staggering). So, I have decided to give you something to add to a review:

Pick a character. Any character from any of the HP books will do. Even if they're currently stuck in Azkaban or are a House-Elf. Crookshanks, Peter Pettigrew, Luna Lovegood, Cho, a painting of a rich wizard long gone, the Grey Lady, Bill in Egypt, a goblin, Fawkes, Gilderoy Lockehart, Sirius, Molly Weasely, Ginny, or even some stray snake in the Chamber of Secrets! Any character that is not Voldemort or Dumbledore.

I will write a section of a chapter from the viewpoint of whatever character you choose. I'm going to be away from FF for a week this month (plus, school is starting), and I want fresh ideas for something to write over that time.


	13. Disorders Don't Exist

Finally updated! Sorry it's so short.

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><p>The great Hall buzzed with hushed tones, pointed fingers, and noticeable silences when certain people walked by small clusters on the morning of Wednesday (the very next day); the gossip mill at its finest.<p>

A great many characters starred in their thrilling tales, and although many weaved their way in through unrelated other rumours, one remained constant.

The starring role ghosted around the Hall. Mind-boggling as the idea might be, more than a few students wondered when he would be down for breakfast in the hopes of confirming some of the more outlandish claims.

Only the House ghosts watching him with interest, he flitted by each of the parties, lingering long enough to understand the gist of the story and analyse the reactions of the listening members.

He found a seat next to Mali8k, who made room for him. A sixth year paused in talking to a friend for his food, and jumped when he noticed Bakura.

"Blimey! When did you get here?"

Someone seemed to have noticed Bakura at some point, as a small group of Slytherins were making their way over.

"Bakura," Draco started, sneering. "You're crazy, just like Potter. You both want attention, and will do wild things to get it. You've even got Granger backing you up!"

Malik asked, "You don't believe he has a mental disorder?"

Draco laughed, gathering laughs from the rest of the Slytherins, inadvertently labelling themselves as followers. "As if. There's no such thing as a 'mental disorder'."

He looked around. "Speaking of crazies, where's Potter?"

He took one last look before shrugging and addressing the two shadow mages in a harsh whisper. "I know what you're doing, Bakura. If you try anything else I'll tell my father, and then you'll pay."

Once the Slytherins had left and now glared at them from their own table, Bakura turned to Malik, unfazed. "His father? Is that supposed to scare me? If anything, I now wonder why we ever let him in our compartment on the train. He's becoming a nuisance."

Malik looked at the Slytherin table and had a hard time restraining his laughter at the pitiful attempt at intimidation.

* * *

><p>Bakura went to Divination and found the students inching away from him. They froze, however, when he grinned at them. Malik was free to laugh his heart out.<p>

Ryou woke up when Bakura stepped in the Transfiguration classroom. McGonagall fixed him with a watchful stare and didn't let up all throughout the class. She had him practice while she watched and made him write the assigned essay in class. She provided no answers for his questioning glance, nor for any of the other students. Considering what happened last time, there wasn't much to ask.

* * *

><p><strong>Bonus side-story<strong>:

Griphook's lip curled in a sneer as Bill's political prowess dissolved into inane garble. Again.

Bill had a point, of course. But the fact was that the goblins didn't care. Goblins were a greedy race, and didn't bother to hide or repress it. They felt it dishonest. They liked money, and by holding money in vaults they had the wizards under their thumb. They kept the money in their vaults; what the wizards did with it was their own business.

As were their wars.

Griphook knew the wizards were at war, and that many would flock to the Light side if goblins publicly accepted that the Dark Lord had returned. However, that would also make the wizards assume the goblins had chosen a side, and therein lied the problem. They knew very well a horcux was hidden in a Gringotts vault. Destroying it would bring unwanted attention and affiliation assumptions. Yet, they still knew how to destroy it and would do so if they had to force their hand.

"Mr Weasely, I called you to this office to discuss your assignment. Not you war," Griphook said in a scathing tone.

Bill's hand gestures ceased and his political voice failed him. As it should have. With goblins, one toe out of line could cost one a career. The goblins had the wizards as enslaved as wizards had the House Elves.

Griphook handed a map to Bill. It was of a section of Egypt, with a red circle pinpointing a vague location.

"I want you to find a tomb. It contains a valuable secret, one I don't want in Voldemort's hands-" Bill flinched, although his face lit up. "-or Dumbledore's."

At Bill's expression of agony, Griphook went on to say, "It is very powerful magic that only certain people can control. Anyone else who attempts to control it will go insane and die a very painful death."

He thought Bill gained a look of fond remembrance, but passed it off as a quirk of wizards.

"As such, it is imperative you handle the artefact, or artifacts, with extreme care. The tomb is placed under an ancient form of Fidelious. Hire a guide from the Ishtal clan to lead you. You may have to join a group of muggle archeologists. I really don't care. The tomb is filled with wards and curses, the reason why I chose you for this task. You will probably die, as the previous curse breakers we sent over a year ago have been proclaimed dead. Is your will completed?" Griphook stated the entire briefing in a bored monotone, never changing the sneer on his face.

Ashen from the last tidbit of information, Bill steeled himself and nodded.

"Excellent," Griphook said, sounding for the world like it was not. "It is expected you leave for Cairo first thing tomorrow. If you speak of the artifacts to any non-goblin we will know."

* * *

><p>I blame school.<p>

I tried writing with what you guys gave me for ideas, but I could only end up with this small side-story. I tried to include all the characters suggested, but then it got depressing and confusing and just didn't do anything for the plot except mess a few things up. Sorry. Well, maybe Bill will be all twitchy from his little quest. Twitchy is always fun.

In other news, I watched Soul Eater (anime) and now I'm writing two fanfics for it. One of them is a crossover with HP. The OCD child Grim Reaper with gold eyes is mistaken for a werewolf. And then I started an Assassin's Creed fanfic, along with another HP fic featuring Sirius getting another chance at life. Then I updated a bunch of other fics, too.


	14. Adrenaline and Fluff

I apologize for the terribly long absence. An entire school year passed without a single update! On the bright side, I started five other stories. And I updated my list of plot bunnies and added more rants to my profile, if you want to keep updated on that. The main reason for this long absence is because I hate my computer, so I transfered all my files to my laptop, and I ended up losing my outlines for two of my Yu-Gi-Oh stories in the process. That's also because I use Liquid Story Binder for my writing (Microsoft Word keeps crashing and I have a slight fear of the color white. This program lets me make the background dark grey.), and LSB uses different file names for my outlines.

Only two people noticed and told me that I spelled Malik as Mali8k in the last chapter. Congratulations! You get a single clap for each of you! *clap clap*

* * *

><p>The wind slapped at his face, whipped up his hair, and made him deaf with its whistles. Lean down and forward, angle the broom down. Slide down, rotate slowly. He felt the tips of the grass tickle his cheeks. He laughed.<p>

Jerk up. Zoom up the steep stands. He ignored the splinters he barely avoided. Saw the screams from the corner of his eye. He laughed.

Curve into a right angle, parallel to the ground. Wind shears the face. Jerk to slide. Laughter to laughter. Down. Rotate, rotate, slowly, slowly, blink. His legs clung tight around the broom. He threw his hands away, letting them hang between his head and the grass. He cheered for joy.

His hands smacked the handle and fast, fast, rotate, up, up, blink. Dive, not too steep, shooting through a hoop and kept going. He yanked the broom around another pole as a laughing blur passed by, stuck in that endless loop of adrenaline-pumping diving and pulling up at the last second.

He caught the strange bat he was thrown. The world paused as he studied the bat, then sped up again as he zipped around to hit back flying blugeons. The first two eventually reversed direction with two good smacks. The next three sped past; he jumped and shied away, turning very pale as the third zoomed towards his face.

A speck of gold flew in the air.

"Catch it."

So he did.

He headed for the gold, and halfway across the field, jerked, started growling. The bat zoomed towards someone on the ground. His adrenaline-obsessed friend ignored the falling bat, having too much fun to learn the game, letting it pass towards the intended target, which dived away. Yells jeered from the ground, mangled from wind and distance.

The gold vanished. Its metallic sheen played tricks with the sun, hiding most of its movement until it was found it a tricky thing. Piquied his interest. Zoom, jerk, flip, slide, dive, twist, right behind him, he caught it.

He blinked, the sun was drowning. Other players zoomed around him. A twin slapped him on the back. He flinched at the contact, almost missing the "good job."

A shrill whistle tore through the air, calling all fliers to meet the ground again. One jumped off his broom, and Malik landed with a a barrel roll as the broom halted and dropped. The Gryffindor players gathered around Angelina, and she clapped for their first practice back and gave a warm welcome to the team's new back-up seeker, adding and insult under her breath about the current seeker (whoever that may be). Her last comment was a compliment to the two newbies for ramping up the speed on the old school brooms. Ryou glanced at Malik, who still grinned madly. Bakura decided it wasn't so bad after all that his hikari asked about Quidditch when Angelina cornered Harry about it at dinner.

* * *

><p>"Are you hiding from the Wrackspurts, Malik Ishtal?"<p>

Malik jumped around to find an angelic, pale face framed by radish earrings, pale blonde hair, and large crazy glasses. Had the hair been a few shades lighter, he would have sworn she was a long-lost twin of Ryou's. Malik grinned at her, liking her already.

"I'm hiding from the toad. I charmed some frogs to think she was one of them," Malik's disembodied voice didn't surprise the girl, and he wondered if she even noticed he was as solid as a ghost right then.

The girl peered past him in the darkened hallway, the torches smoking from their abrupt deaths. Umbridge stomped down their way. One frog dragged itself after her, one leg hanging limp, croaking froggy love songs. Her dainty kitten heels were speckled red and yellow.

Malik grabbed the girl's arm, pulling her into an embrace of shadow. Instead of reflexively pushing away, she freely snuggled into his chest.

The pale girl appeared in a deserted corridor. She shivered and squeezed shut her eyes, still somehow clutching Malik despite his incorporal form. Malik stepped into the light cast by the torches. The girl stopped shivering instantly. "Where are we?" she asked, not taking her head off his robes.

Malik shrugged. "Somewhere near the divination classroom." He poked her. "Why are you still clinging to me? Not I that mind having a cute girl attached to my chest."

"You are an interesting wizard, Malik Ishtal,"was her answer.

"I try," he replied, flashing a grin.

"What were you trying to acheieve?"

"From pranking the toad? Her anger, I guess, revenge for trying to put Ryou in detention, and laughter. Mostly laughter."

A smilelit up on the girl's face. "I get it now!" She laughed as though the prank was still going on in front of her. Malik chuckled at her.

"So when are you planning to get off me?"

* * *

><p>LunaxMalik: "Hey, this pairing is convenient."<p>

At first, I had Malik scared of flying, but then realized he loved being above ground and he loved his motorcycle, so I changed it.

I know I haven't posted in a long time, but I'm just saying; I'll be on vacation until the middle of July, so you'll have to wait until then for me to reply to reviews.


	15. Elephants Are Frequently Ignored

Yeah, an actual chapter that isn't rushed! I think.

Disclaimer: I own the idea.

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><p>The Gryffindor Quidditch team jostled Ryou and Malik through the portrait door. The twins disappeared, only to reappear with bottles of a drink they called butterbeer. The students, even the ones that hadn't watched the tryouts, passed around the bottles, filling goblets and chatting amiably.<p>

Malik watched Ron inform Hermione of the outcome of the tryouts, and Ryou noticed the empty spot the two friends had left clear, as if Harry would come and complete their golden trio at any moment. Malik turned to Ryou and said, making no effort to lower the volume of his voice, "Harrys detention is nearly over. I'm going to go prank that toady teacher. If anyone asks, I've..." Malik paused, his smile flicking into a frown as he thought. He shrugged. "Tell them I've gone to see Isis."

Ryou felt his head nod, the corner of his happy smile tugging wickedly. The rest of the team had wasted no time in getting out of their bulky robes, and the albino did the same, pulling his black robe over his head. He was suddenly just another Gryffindor, the same red tie, the same grey uniform vest, the same black pants. Bakura made his way to the empty spot the two-man trio had left open.

The current conversation came to a close, and Bakura asked in a light tone, "What have you been doing today, Hermione?"

Ron and Hermione jumped, splashing their drinks. Hermione recovered first. "Oh, hello, Ryou! Ron was just telling me you've been made reserve seeker for the team." Hermione frowned, taking in the lack of color-coded robes. "Which Ryou am I talking to right now?"

Ryou looked at her through doe-brown eyes. "Does it matter? Both of us can hear you." His voice continued, cold and sharp, "You speak to two, even if you only see one at a time."

Hermione nodded in fascination. Ron had stiffened at the cold voice. Hermione continued, answering bakura's original question, "I've spent the night knitting more hats for the House Elves."

"House Elves? What are they?"

Hermione's eyes widened in realization, the dark shadows noting sleepiness disappearing. "That's right, you've been going off with Malik these past few days. House Elves are the wizard world's version of slaves, and they keep Hogwarts clean without any form of payment. I'm knitting clothing for them because when a wizard gives his House Elf clothing, it frees them."

Ryou came to the surface. "Really? Are there any at Grimmauld Place?"

Hermione's smile drooped, and for the most part became forced. "There's one-"

"-His name is Kreacher and he's gone bonkers," Ron interrupted, scowling. "He insults everyone and makes everything dirtier. His goal in life is to have his head mounted on the wall with the rest of his family."

"Ron!" Hermione looked scandalized, but her face glowed red, flustered. "He's not- that is, he's been a bit lonely, but he's not- not-" Hermione struggled for words, making her appear to be suffocating herself in the effort. Ryou's soft, assuring voice halted her.

"Mentally ill?"

Hermione deflated, and Ron stared confused. "I'm sorry, Ryou."

"Why should you be? Malik makes plenty of jokes about it."

Hermione sighed and slumped in to the armchair. "It's...something people don't talk about in polite company. It's the elephant in the room."

"But if you ignore the elephant," Ryou started, "it won't be fed, and soon there will be a rotting carcass that no one wants to clean up."

"Why did you have to make that gross?" Ron scowled at Ryou. "Someone would have vanished it before it even died."

Bakura chuckle in his soul room, and Ryou couldn't help but mirror the action. /That's the wizards' answer to every problem, is it? Just 'vanish' it?/

"It's a muggle saying." Still chuckling, Ryou escaped up the stairs away from the happy chatting.

An obstacle blocked the entrance to his shared dorm room. Two grinning obstacles, to be exact.

"Well, well, if it isn't our new back-up seeker."

"He's a real Gryffindor now, George."

Bakura asked, "What do you want?"

"We want you to test our products."

"We've never tested them on a certifiably insane subject, you see."

"How are you going to pay me?" Bakura knew this game; he knew it very well.

One twin leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, "We've caught wind of a new craze-"

"-coming to Hogwarts soon. Lee's cousin got a hold of a big company in America-"

"-and he gave us samples of their product. What do you say?"

"I say your products should stay away from me," Bakura replied in a deadpan.

"Well, what does the other Ryou say?"

Bakura fell silent for a second. "He says 'no thank you'."

The twins cleared the way, one commenting, "He's a polite bloke."

Bakura stalked into the room,shutting the door behind him. the torches died even as they flared to life. Ryou fished a book from his trunk and curled on his bed, settling down to read. Five seconds passed in peace. Then,

"Malik is pranking. You're reading. Ladies and gentlemen: Ryou, The Most Boring Host Ever."

Ryou's pout became Bakura's grin. The book was deposited on the bed, the pages down, making book enthusiasts everywhere cringe as the spine protested the poor treatment. Bakura stifled a laugh at his light. Studying while there was a castle to explore, indeed.

Bakura rolled off the bed, falling in to a pit of darkness. Half a mile away, his steps made nary a sound as the flickering light of torches bathed his reluctant form. The sight before him was enough to make his light blush and retreat within their mind.

"Aw, why didn't you offer to share?" Bakura's voice dripped with mock disappointment, smiling sweetly at the couple.

Malik jumped at the sudden question, apparently too interested in the shivering girl pressed against his torso to have noticed Bakura's arrival. "Kura!" He barely pushed the girl away before she was invading Bakura's personal space.

Her bright eyes stared into Bakura's dark eyes. He was reminded of a girl in a car accident, but instantly hid that thought from Ryou. Before Bakura could get a word out, she sobbed. Tears sprung from her eyes, and she went bawling back to Malik's arms.

"I'll give you some 'privacy' so you can 'cheer up' your new girlfriend," Bakura said, giving a lazy wave.

"Wait!"

Bakura waited. He hadn't moved.

"Why are you..." She paused, as if to wait until she dried her eyes, but made no move to do so.

"Ask your boyfriend," Bakura replied flippantly. "Malik, want to to ditch your girl? You can get another one later."

Malik shrugged, staring at the blond with uncomfortable puzzlement. "I don't like leaving her here like this, though. Do this-" he waved the Rod around like a snake. "-while saying 'sleep'."

Muttering, "Don't tell me what to do," Bakura drew out his wand. The girl watched with obliviousness, but Bakura was unperturbed.

As with every spell previous, Bakura's spell had no effect, so Malik cast it instead. The girl went out like a light. Neither of them bothered to prop her against the wall.

"I found an unused classroom," Malik said, smirking. "Want to have some fun?"

* * *

><p>"I have two potions here. Both brewed by me, so they're more potent than if a normal wizard had made them," Malik said, showing Bakura two bottles in the corner. "One will speed up clotting so we'll almost immediately have a scar, and the other is a blood-replenishing potion."<p>

Bakura ignored Malik in favor of tossing the knife between his hands, a bored look on his face. Malik sighed.

"I doubt Ryou wants to wake up covered in blood and about to faint from blood loss."

Bakura's glare snapped to Malik, scowling. "A few drops of the clotting potion and the second later."

"Alright." Malik took off the shaft of the Rod, grinning at his reflection on the blade. The hidden dagger wouldn't stay shiny for long. "First to faint loses."

* * *

><p>Elephant in the room: PHILOSOPHY! I always like playing around with sayings.<p>

WAIT WAIT WAIT - are there really 136 reviews for this story? Seriously, the YGO crossover section is crawling with readers. I reread all the reviews, and I must say this: you're all awesome.

...why do I get the feeling I unintentionally put in MalikxBakura fluff?

I apologize for the shortness.


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